


i'll show you how i swing

by moonglows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sports Swap, Angst, Baseball, Implied/Referenced Bullying, M/M, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Rugby, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25383145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonglows/pseuds/moonglows
Summary: Daichi would have never thought he would score a home run by meeting Sugawara.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 54
Kudos: 103





	1. belonging

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer : I'm not a pro at either baseball or rugby, the only knowledge I got is from reading mangas and watching some games and THAT'S ALL. So I apologise in advance if there might be some inaccuracies (I'll try my best to make the story as accurate as I can!)  
> Updates will be irregular so you can either subscribe to the fic or follow me on[ twitter ](https://twitter.com/sugawraa)  
> here!  
> @frenchedvanilla drew art for the fic which you can see [ here ](https://twitter.com/frenchedvanilla/status/1285144690833018880)  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Sendai was peaceful for the most part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sugawraa) !  
> 

Life in Sendai was peaceful for the most part.

Suga enjoyed watching the city wake up before his eyes every morning, the sun, slowly rising before finally towering over the buildings.

In the quiet of his room and comfort of his cocoon, he rubbed the remainders of sleep from his eyes and gazed out at the city spread out below him.

To his left, Suga hears his alarm beeping and he moans softly, not wanting to leave the warm duvet wrapped around his body. He had only been on break for a week, but it had been enough to screw up his sleeping schedule, as well as his social skills. 

Suga wasn’t a social butterfly, he was quite the opposite of it actually. He hadn’t gone out at all the past week. It was partly because he didn’t want to meet up with his middle school ‘friends’ but mostly because he had to mentally prepare himself for a new beginning, high school.

It truly was a new beginning, as he was going to a school that was quite far away from his place, despite it being in Sendai. Not a single one of his middle school classmates were going there, and while that was a relief for Suga, it was also quite terrifying.

He sat at the edge of his bed, stretching slowly before standing to put on a pair of sweatpants. As he trudged down the stairs, he took in the familiar calm of his home. There was no one in the kitchen, just a much expected sticky note resting on top of a bowl of rice. 

“Have fun on your first day, don’t forget your bento!” it said. He sighed, wishing his parents were here. They always knew how to soothe his nerves before days like these.

He took the bowl of rice with him to the living room and sat down on the couch, something his mom would probably scold him for if she were here, before turning on the TV. He had wanted to stay up late the night before for a baseball game, but his parents had urged him to record it instead.

Nestled in his usual blanket, bowl and remote in hand, he pressed play and soon the sound of clapping and cheering filled the house. Even if he knew the results, the Japanese team having won two-nil against the American team, he still wanted to watch the game.

Watching baseball, whether it was at home or at the stadium, had helped him a lot with his own pitching. He had pretty much learned everything from watching professional games, and it had really helped him grow, both mentally and physically. 

He hoped his high school team would accept him better than his older one did.

He was having a hell of a time swallowing down his breakfast. He knew he had to eat, but there was nothing he could do against the lump forming in his throat. He took one last bite of his rice before putting the bowl on the coffee table and laying down on the couch.

Falling asleep and skipping school sounded really tempting. Suga wasn’t a dunce, he was actually a pretty good student academics wise, he just hated going to school.

He didn’t have many friends, the only true friend he had in his childhood had changed schools suddenly and they had lost contact. He couldn’t even call his teammates his friends because, honestly, they weren’t. 

He sank further into the blanket and remembered that suffocating feeling of dread just at the thought of going to school, seeing his classmates - his bullies.

He shifted on the couch uncomfortably and looked at his reflection in the living room’s window. He watched as his mouth turned into a deep frown, all he could see was pale skin and snow white hair. He hated it. Hated how he had to tell everyone ‘I’m albino’ but it did nothing to stop making them look at him that way.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stood up.

High school would be different, he hoped.

Blanket still tightly wrapped around him, he made his way up to his room to get ready. Ten minutes later found him undressed and anxiously pacing. A glimpse of his baseball bat peeking out from his gym bag pushes him to finally get ready. 7 more hours and he would be on the mound again, with a new team.

He put on his uniform, washed his face and teeth before grabbing his backpack and exiting the house.

The first thing he noticed as he stepped out of his home was the subtle and delicate scent of the cherry blossoms in front of his house. The flowers had started blooming earlier that year but, some of them still had yet to open. 

The school was a twenty five minute walk from his place, which should be enough for his heart to stop racing. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat the closer he got to the school, but fought to keep his facade calm and composed, noticing students wearing outfits similar to his own starting to fill the streets. 

He lowered his gaze to avoid eye contact until he reached the row of lockers inside the building. He looked for locker 102 for a few seconds before locking his gaze with someone who looked familiar.

“Suga ?” The spiky haired boy said, astonishment clear in his voice as he closed his locker with his foot. He had grown taller since the last time he had seen him. 

“Iwaizumi-san, hi.” He bowed slightly. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Iwaizumi readjusted the gym bag on his shoulder before continuing, “You still playing baseball?” He asked as he nodded at Suga’s own gym bag. 

“Ah yes, I actually got scouted by the assistant coach of the baseball team here.” He gave him a small smile, a genuine one.

“That’s great! I actually started playing-“ 

“Iwaizumi, have you seen the rugby field? It’s huge!” A boy interrupted as he wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders. He looked a bit smaller than Iwaizumi, but had an equally as large build. 

“Rugby, huh?” He said, hands trembling around the strap of his bag. He didn’t want to start dealing with problems on his first day here so he quickly stuffed his bag in his locker before putting on his indoor shoes. 

“I should go to class, I’ll see you later.” He waved as he turned away from the two boys. 

“Hey, which class are you in?” Iwaizumi called from where he was still standing.

Suga turned around, lifting up four fingers, and quickly entered the closest room to him before he could catch his friend’s reply. 

He leaned his forehead against the cold tile wall of the bathroom he’d ended up in and let out a long shaky sigh. He could feel the panic slowly settle in and he tried to fight off the sensation by taking one steady breath through his nose, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling slowly through his mouth.

He repeated the process one, two, three times until his hands stopped shaking. Good thing the first room he found had been a bathroom. He didn’t bother turning the lights on and instead walked towards the sinks to splash some cold water on his face. He felt a little better after that, ready to at least get out of the tiny room.

“Get your shit together, Sugawara.” He whispered at his reflection in the mirror. 

He slid his hand through his silky hair, wondering if he should just cut it or dye it, or both. He hated the white, almost silver color of his hair, hated the way it made his skin look even paler than it already was.

He got out of the bathroom almost as swiftly as he came in, making sure to keep his gaze low enough in case he were to meet people he knew. He occasionally peeped at the numbers displayed next to the classroom he walked by until he reached his own. 

He felt everyone’s gaze transfer to him as he opened the door, growing painfully self-conscious as he reached what he guessed was his desk. He could hear people whispering to his right but decided not to take it into account; he was used to it after all.

He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous as he watched everyone banter together from his desk. He wished he had enough confidence to stand up and talk to them, to throw jokes and smiles as easily as they do.

Suddenly, the tense atmosphere changed and the whispers ceased, instead getting replaced by elated gasps and excited chatter as someone new entered the classroom. 

Long limbs and a pretty face with dark brown hair swept outwards and equally as dark eyes. He was waving and smiling to the group of girls to his left, a grin taking over his face when his eyes landed on Suga.

“Well well, if it isn’t Sugawara Koushi!” He said as he turned the chair in front of him around and straddled it.

“Oikawa-san, hello.” He said through gritted teeth and bowed his head slightly. 

He remembers the last game he had played in junior school. The last pitch he had thrown. The one Oikawa Tooru, catcher and cleanup hitter at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High, had hit. A home run. 

He would never forget, the sun blinding him as he watched the ball go over the fences, helpless.

He would never forget, the crowd cheering for the other team, as he took into account that this would be his last game ever with his team.

“So Suga-chan… you got scouted too?” Oikawa asked, smug look on his face.

‘Suga-chan? Too ?’ He thought as he clenched his fists in his lap. Of course one of the best catchers in the Miyagi region would get scouted here as well. Of course he would.

He watched as more people filled the classroom, his eyes landing on the not-so-familiar brunette he had seen with Iwaizumi earlier.

“Yes-“

“It’s so sad…” Oikawa interrupted, tapping his fingers on Suga’s desk before propping his chin on his hands, “I wish I could see that defeated look on your cute face again.” 

_ Defeated. _

Had he heard him correctly ? He felt like a deer in headlights, unable to do anything but blink. Frozen in place. He couldn’t get stepped on, not again.

“Funny coming from someone who lost in the finals.” He muttered under his breath, Oikawa’s eyes going wide. 

Before Oikawa could retort with something of his own, their homeroom teacher walked in, telling everyone to promptly go to their assigned seats. He heard the brunette let out a tsk and mutter something under his breath before moving two seats to his right and behind.

A great start to the next three years in high school, he thought.

The day went by quickly after that, it had mostly been a day for presentations, getting to know his classmates as well as his teachers. His mind had been elsewhere most of the day though. The mound occupied most of his thoughts, counting the hours and minutes and seconds ’til he would be able to go back there again.

He had stayed inside the classroom for lunch, needing some alone time, looking out the window at the baseball field sprawled in front of his eyes. His bento had been left untouched, Suga still not finding his appetite. 

Suga kept looking at the clock in front of him, 10 minutes. 10 minutes and he would be in his new uniform, the familiar smell of earth and sand filling his nostrils. 

Despite the fact his first meeting with one of his teammates hadn’t gone according to plan, he was excited.

He watched attentively as his homeroom teacher looked at the same clock Suga had been eyeing most of the day, and ended the class. 

The sound of zippers and books closing filled the room, chatters starting immediately. The sound of a ruler slapped on top of a desk resonated throughout the whole room, cackles ending promptly. 

“I’ll pick two random students for cleaning duty tonight.” Their homeroom teacher said, bewildered moans coming out of the students’ mouths.

Suga kept putting his stuff in his backpack, hoping he would be exempted from cleaning duty for tonight.

They all watched as their teacher skimmed over the name list. “Sawamura-kun and the next person on the list, Sugawara-kun.”

All he could do was let out a small ‘okay’ as he walked towards the teacher’s desk so he could show them where the broom closet was. 

The boy he was cleaning with was the brunette from this morning, the guy he had clearly avoided right from the start. He seemed nice but, Suga knew that deep down he would never make the first move.

Suga walked towards the windows once everyone left, opening them so as to let fresh air inside the sweat-scented room. 

He started grabbing papers that had fallen on the floor, bringing them to the trashcan and cleaning the tables that were next to the windows, looking at the baseball field he had been contemplating all day. 

“Uhm,” The other boy started, bringing Suga out of his daydream about baseball, which he’d been doing instead of cleaning. He turned around, facing a hesitating Sawamura. “Sugawara right?”

“Yes?” He approached the brunette, cleaning the tables that hadn’t been cleaned by the other boy yet. 

“Are you- Do you- Which club are you in?” Suga could tell the other boy was nervous as he was barely even looking at him and was fidgeting instead of cleaning.

“Baseball. You’re in the rugby club?” 

“Ah, yeah.” He looked like he was reconsidering his words. “Did you dye your hair?”

Suga clenched his fist against the rag he was holding. He ran a trembling hand through his hair and gave him a fake smile. He took a deep breath in an attempt to wash away the angry feeling crawling up his spine.

“No I did not.” Suga approached the trash can, closing the garbage bag and making his way towards the door. “I’m done with my side, just gonna put this outside and I’m going to club.”

He left before he could hear his answer.

On the mound, he felt at home, like he was meant to be here somehow. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, belonging.

The sun was shining high above their heads as Suga was pitching in the bullpen. After doing presentations, the two first year pitchers had been assigned a catcher each to see the strength in their throws. 

And as if his day couldn’t get any better, Suga had been assigned Oikawa as catcher. He never would have thought he would be throwing his best pitches to his ex-rival. 

“Nice pitch Sugawara!” The coach called out from outside the bullpen as Oikawa threw the ball back, visibly smirking under his helmet.

“What is it?” He asked as he started to bring his hands together for his next pitch.

“Slider.” Suga nodded at Oikawa’s request and threw his signature pitch, a horizontally moving breaking ball that broke down and away at the plate. His slider was fast, and he had finally gotten the hang of it after years of uncertainty on whether or not he should use such a powerful weapon that few catchers could catch. “Don’t be so aggressive Suga-chan.”

“Your form looks great Sugawara. Oikawa, that was good for a first time catching his slider. Good job you two, join the others.”

The two boys bowed their heads at the coach and left the bullpen quickly so as to let the other battery have their turn pitching and catching. They walked towards the dugout, Suga sitting on the bench, tension filling the air surrounding them.

“You didn’t answer my question, you know.” Suga said at last, staring at Oikawa as he gulped down a mouthful of water. 

He watched as Oikawa sat down on the bench next to him, as mysterious as ever as the boy stared at the field, not even taking a quick glance at Suga.

“I think we would make a great battery.”

Had he heard him correctly?

“What do you mean-“

“You’re a good pitcher,” He interrupted, “There’s no denying that. And I’m a good catcher, there’s no denying that either.”

Suga was at a loss for words. Oikawa’s attitude towards him had completely changed in the span of a few hours. He knew he should set aside their differences because they were teammates now but, he couldn’t help but feel wary about his behaviour.

“I know what you’re thinking,  _ arrogant bastard thinking he’s better than everyone blablabla _ . Together, we can be invincible.” 

Suga’s mouth dropped open, felt his face heat up at the praise. “O-Okay?”

“I’m sorry about this morning. We’re gonna be teammates, form a battery together so…. better bury the hatchet right?” He didn’t know what to say. This Oikawa was so different from the Oikawa he had met this morning, or even in the semi-finals the year before.

“Yeah, of course yeah. I apologise for this morning too.”

“You really hurt me back there you know.” He admitted,  _ hurt _ .

Suga paled. “I’m sorry, I just-“

Oikawa let out a bark-like laugh. “You should see your face!” He teased. 

Suga could only push his shoulder playfully. “You’re annoying.”

He didn’t mean it one bit.

After their heartfelt conversation, they found themselves walking towards the field, joining the other players, their new teammates. He couldn’t help but think back to what Oikawa had said just a few minutes ago.

Invincible. Together. 

Was that what belonging felt like? 

He kept thinking about it as they finished practice. The lighthearted bickering with Oikawa continued as they got changed, ready to go home for the day; he couldn’t wait to practice again, and again, and again with his new team. 

He hadn’t felt like this in years.

He soon was in front of the school gate, saying goodbye to his newfound teammate and walked away, towards his home, in the opposite direction Oikawa was headed in. 

He put on his earphones and started playing some music. It wasn’t until he turned the corner that he started feeling someone’s gaze on him, making him accelerate his steps. 

It was unpleasant, he thought. He didn’t dare look back, pretending it was nothing, but still lowered the volume in his ears. 

It wasn’t late, he shouldn’t be scared. The Sendai streets were glowing with hues of orange and yellow, soft lights emanating from the lamppost and the sun slowly setting in the horizon. His mind went elsewhere for a few seconds but, the lower the music was, the louder the steps behind him became.

He didn’t allow himself to show fear. Instead, he counted the minutes until he would be home. 

The footsteps behind him were still there as he approached his house, digging through his backpack for his keys, not only to open the front door of his house, but to use as a weapon if the person behind him were to be dangerous.

It was when he reached the gate that the footsteps grew louder and faster, he could feel the grip on his keys tightening and screamed when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

He turned around to face them, keys dropping to the floor. “Putain!” He let out before realising the hand on his shoulder belonged to Sawamura.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The other boy said, visibly embarrassed. Suga watched as Sawamura crouched down to retrieve the keys, giving them back to him.

“Sawamura! I thought a creep was following me.” He held onto his bag like a lifeline, hoping to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to deal with him today.

“I’m really sorry.” He looked at the saddened look on Sawamura’s face. He looked pensive. “Daichi is fine by the way.”

Suga didn’t know what to say, he just wanted to be left alone. ”Do you live here?” He said, trying to end the conversation as smoothly as possible.

“Ah yeah, just down the street. We moved in during the break.” Sawamura shifted his weight on his other leg, twisting his mouth in thought. “I’m sorry about earlier. Iwaizumi told me it was a risky subject and I didn’t know.”

Iwaizumi. What did Iwaizumi tell him? He felt uneasy. He knew both him and Iwaizumi meant well, but it did not sit right with him. “What did he tell you?” Why was he keeping the conversation going?

Suga watched as Sawamura shifted uncomfortably. He lowered his gaze looking at his own hands, trembling in what he wanted to believe was the evening cold. “Uhm, that you were bullied as a kid for your hair and-“

“Next time,” He interrupted in a stern voice, “Don’t ask him for things about me.” Suga opened the gate to his house and smiled from above it at a taken-aback Sawamura. “Good night.”

He heard a small ‘good night’ coming from his classmate as he reached his doorstep, as well as footsteps fading away with the distance. 

When he entered his house, the first thing he noticed was the bright light from the kitchen illuminating his face as well as his mother’s coat hanging from the coat rack.

He didn’t have to wait long to see her face peeking from the kitchen doorway, warm smile plastered on her face as she approached him. 

She squished his cheeks and all he could do was whine. “Was that one of your friends?” She asked excitedly as she kept rubbing his cheek with his hand. He didn’t feel like receiving his mother’s physical affection tonight, but he could never say no to her.

A  _ friend _ . “Yeah, he’s a friend.” He hoped she would buy his lies.

She let go of his face and walked towards the kitchen, where the smell of something strong yet delicate came from. He followed suit, wanting to see what they were having for dinner.

“How was your first day? Practice went okay?” She asked as she put meat in a pan filled with oil, the gentle sound of sizzling filling both their ears. Tonkatsu he guessed.

He moved towards the sink to wash his bento box, having been cautious to remove its remaining contents before going home.

“It was okay, practice went great and I became friends with a catcher in my class.” This put a smile to his lips. He had never felt this good after practice, even in middle school. 

He felt relieved. All the worries from the morning slowly leaving his body. He would no longer dread going to school and practice, no longer have one hell of a job finishing both breakfast and lunch. Finally happy in what he was doing, not because he was passionate about baseball, but because he had met people who were as passionate as him, and accepting. That was what high school baseball was about.

“Iwaizumi is in my school as well.” He said after he finished drying his bento box. His mom seemed visibly surprised at the announcement, dropping the spoon she had in hand to the floor. “What is it?” He asked before sitting down on one of the stools in the kitchen.

“I knew his family had stayed in Sendai but I didn’t expect you two to be in the same school again.” She didn’t dare look back to look at her son.

Suga couldn’t say he was disappointed by his mother’s lies because deep down, he knew. He had heard something about him being a bad influence to Iwaizumi or something. He hadn’t understood at the time, and now that he thought about it, maybe it had been the kiss they had shared back when they were five. They were kids, they didn’t understand at the time, but Iwaizumi’s mother had. Something so innocent turned into a vicious act.

“It’s okay, he’s actually the one who approached me. Must be the hair or something.” He laughed bitterly. “I’ll take a quick shower before dinner.”

Suga went upstairs and to his bedroom, carefully disposing of his uniform on the chair in the corner of the room before walking towards his bathroom. 

He stepped in the shower, limbs shaky and heavy, mostly from practice but also the anxiety dying down. He sighed as the water hit his back, the warm water pleasant against his skin. He leaned his forehead against the wall for a few seconds, pensive. He couldn’t wait to sleep the day off. Stop thinking for the day.

He still didn’t know what was up with that Sawamura guy. He could tell he was trying to be nice, but he sounded like he was pitying him, which he didn’t like. He was clumsy with his words, his gestures, but he still couldn’t help but think about him and his damned chocolate-brown eyes and dumb smile.

He caught his reflection in the mirror and saw a stupid blush spread across his face, quickly averting his gaze. 

He quickly found himself in his bed after having showered and eaten, his father not coming back until late that night. He read the stuff he had written during the day in his notebook before falling asleep, the thought of baseball and a certain boy filling his thoughts for the night.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary 
> 
> Battery : The pitcher and catcher.  
> Bullpen : Exercice area for pitchers.  
> Catcher : The player crouched down behind home plate, whose duty is to catch pitches not hit by the batter.  
> Cleanup Hitter : The player who bats fourth in the lineup. Cleanup Hitters often have the most power on the team and their jobs is to bring runs in.  
> Home Run : A hit that allows the batter to make a complete circuit of the bases and score a run.  
> Pitcher : The player who throws the ball to the opposing batter.  
> Slider : A ball that breaks towards the plate laterally and down. 


	2. familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He took in the unfamiliar houses, standing in a continuous row on either side of the street, flowers and trees scattered on the sidewalk. He could tell the area was wealthier than the one he used to live in just from looking at the facades and well-taken-care-of gardens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sugawraa) !  
> 

Life in Sendai was peaceful for the most part.

Daichi loved the way the city woke up as he ran down the streets on his usual morning jog, a part of the town he had never visited before, having moved in a little less than a week ago.

He took in the unfamiliar houses, standing in a continuous row on either side of the street, flowers and trees scattered on the sidewalk. He could tell the area was wealthier than the one he used to live in just from looking at the facades and well-taken-care-of gardens.

When he had first set a foot in his new house, arms holding a bunch of boxes, he couldn’t help but notice the calmness of the neighbourhood, the only sounds he could hear being the ones of lawn-mowers and rustling leaves. He had walked around a little bit that day, not seeing a single person his age in the surrounding houses, to his dismay.

It was still early, barely 7:30, but he could already see cars filling the roads he took, unknown faces leaving for work. As he took a turn to go back home, he spotted his father walking to his car, tailored suit and messy hair, dark circles under his eyes from having to wake up at 3 for his younger siblings, a cup of coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

He had stopped running at this point, approaching his father who had failed to notice his son walking towards him. It’s when he put a hand on his shoulder that his father’s tired gaze went from his own reflection in his coffee to Daichi’s face.

“‘Morning.” He muttered, voice tired in his coffee, taking one big gulp before handing Daichi his cup. “Bring this inside and wake your siblings up before showering.” He ruffled Daichi’s hair and he could only groan at the act.

“Alright, see you.” He smiled at his father and watched as he got in the car, slowly leaving the driveway before disappearing out of sight.

He watched from the doorway as his mother prepared breakfast for his siblings, as well as a bento for herself and Daichi, a soft song emanating from the living room. He didn’t miss the way she swayed her hips at the beat, as energetic as ever, putting rice in a star-shaped mould.

His dog wagged his tail at the sight of his owner, waiting patiently in front of his siblings’ door - a routine. He pet and scratched and stroked his fur, and then watched as the dog ran downstairs at the sound of dog food hitting metal in the kitchen.

He could hear his siblings chatting in baby blabber through the door, a language he had gotten used to and started understanding after a year and a half of almost daily conversations with zestful kids. He knocked on the door and walked inside the room, the two siblings pretending to be asleep.

Daichi wasn’t fooled and scooped them both up, a hollow laugh filling the air as he brought them downstairs, they both knew how to walk, but his parents had insisted they waited before letting them go down the stairs on their own.

He could barely hold his excitement as he went back upstairs, shimmying out of his running clothes before hopping in the shower, thinking about starting afresh in high school.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to play rugby the past week. His days had been busy, between packing and unpacking, having to take care of his siblings and his dog as well as working out, he had barely even had the time to text or even call his friends to hang out.

He sighed as the warm water of the shower jet hit his back, steam emanating from his body and clouding the dimly lit room, his reflection in the mirror barely visible. He felt his muscles relax when he rested his forehead against the cold tile. He could hear the distant jabber of his siblings coming from the kitchen as he turned off the water, music growing louder as he started drying off.

This was what mornings in the Sawamura household looked like. Both his parents were hardworking and serious, but they also knew how to have fun, a gene that Daichi eventually inherited. He had been top of his class for the past few years and yet, always found time to enjoy the little wonders of life.

He walked towards his room to put on his uniform, a pile of boxes still standing proudly in the corner, patiently waiting to be emptied. He took in his room, blank walls lacking character, only the essentials having been removed from their cartons.

He dug through his closet to find his sports bag, cleats sitting at the very bottom of it, along with a water bottle and a towel. It’s when he looked at the time that he thought he had made the right choice by preparing his stuff the night before.

He wasn’t exactly late, but he wouldn’t be super early either. He didn’t even know the way from his house to his high school, and he didn’t really want to get lost on his first day in a new school.

He ran downstairs, two bags in hand and jumping over the last four steps before walking in the kitchen, his bento box waiting for him in the fridge. He noticed his siblings in the corner of his eye, both dressed in similar yellow clothes, ready for their first day at daycare.

“Are you ready? I’ll drive you to school.” Chirped his mother, smile in her voice as she tied his siblings’ shoes in the genkan. The spring sun hadn’t fully risen, cold breeze going through his hair as he first set a foot outside, his siblings following suit in unusually bouncy strides.

Daichi helped her buckle the twins’ seatbelts in the car before sitting in the front, bags at his feet, chin propped on his hand as he gazed at the road sprawled out before him.

The engine roared and loud music came out of the radio, falling back into old habits. It’s when he looked at the time on the dashboard that he realised he might be a bit earlier than he thought, a perfect opportunity to visit the school grounds as well as the rugby field.

The car slowed down and he inhaled deeply at the sight of the school building. A small hand gripped at his hair from the back as he was about to get out, a hiss coming out of his throat in the process. “Izumi.” He groaned, and his little sister could only giggle.

He could feel the pout in her voice as she let out a small ‘noo’ but let go anyway, Daichi flashing both his siblings a smile before leaving the car.

“I’ll be home around 7 I think.” He said before closing the door, his mother and siblings waving at him goodbye.

The first thing he did when he first set a foot on the school grounds was check the rugby field.Thick spring grass that went for miles, still wet with early morning dew. Rows of bleachers surrounding it, long and thick pillars at both ends of the field. It was so much different than his middle school’s sunburned grass, barely enough paint to cover the hundred meters long field.

He still had made many memories there, unforgettable ones, hoping it would stay the same.

He walked back towards the building’s entrance, warm breeze rustling leaves, bringing cherry blossom petals to his feet as he removed his shoes in front of locker 101. He stuffed his belongings in the locker and closed it with his foot, metal clanking throughout the building. A few students were already there, most of them upperclassmen, and he shot a text to Iwaizumi, asking him if he was on his way to school. All he received was a thumbs up emoji, a typical Iwaizumi answer.

He walked around the building, steps bubbly and confident as he looked for his classroom, and found himself in front of the room 1-4 a few minutes later. He had been saddened to hear that Iwaizumi would be in class 1-3, but, as long as they were on the same team, which they were, it was enough.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and was greeted by a text from Iwaizumi, telling him he was putting his stuff in his locker. He decided to go back to where he had been a few minutes ago, wanting to talk to his friend before a very long and boring day of presentations.

Iwaizumi had his back turned to him when he approached him, the voice of students echoing through the main hall becoming louder and louder with each step towards him. It’s when he slung his arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulder and said “Iwaizumi, have you seen the rugby field? It’s huge!” That he realised his friend had been talking to someone else.

Someone he had never seen before.

“Rugby, huh?” The unfamiliar boy said, stuffing his bag in his locker before putting on his indoor shoes.

Daichi watched in confusion as the silver-haired boy walked past the two of them, cheeks flushed crimson. He could feel the coldness in his words as he went “I should go to class, I’ll see you later.” Daichi could barely focus on the conversation that Iwaizumi and this guy were still having, instead fixating the guy’s long and thin fingers showing the number four, before disappearing out of view and into a room he hadn’t noticed before.

“Sorry about that,” Iwaizumi whispered as he escaped Daichi’s hold, “I haven’t visited the school yet.”

“Who was that?” Daichi asked, curious, and a little bit more than intrigued.

“A childhood friend, that’s all.” Iwaizumi’s gaze looked morose and, Daichi remembered it must have been one of the friends he used to have before he transferred school in the middle of the year. He didn’t ask any further questions, even though he had really wanted to, and thought that maybe, he could seek an answer by speaking directly to him.

His feet led him instinctively to class as the clock slowly but surely got closer to class time, saying a quick goodbye to Iwaizumi before entering his classroom.

He recognised familiar faces, excited chatter making its way through his ears, small whispers being heard at the sight of Oikawa, things going back to the way they were just a few weeks ago.

He looked around the classroom for his table, finally moving his gaze to meet the silver haired boy’s. He averted his eyes in clear embarrassment, observing as this guy and Oikawa were chatting about something only Oikawa seemed to be elated about.

His mind went elsewhere as he sat down at his desk, getting his notebook and pencils out. It seemed like both Oikawa and Iwaizumi knew him, and judging by the look on the guy’s face, he hadn’t seemed to like both conversations he had had with either of the two boys.

Iwaizumi wasn’t a bully, he knew that much. He would never hurt a fly actually. He didn’t know what their relationship was with Oikawa, but by the way the guy’s hands clenched against the fabric of his uniform, knuckles turning white under the table, nothing but unease on his face, he definitely could tell that the amusement was one-sided.

Straightening up at the sound of their teacher’s voice entering the room, he took a quick glance at a grim-looking Oikawa, who walked right past him and plopped down on his seat without saying hi.

He snuck a look at the stranger to his left, a grin plastered on his face as he looked out the window. He could see a faint blush on his cheeks, highlighting the mole under his eye that he had only just noticed.

It’s when the bell resonated throughout the whole school to announce that it was lunch time that he realized his eyes hadn’t left the guy’s face the whole morning.

There was something about him, the sun reflecting against his silvery hair, or the way he stretched his fingers unconsciously as he listened to the class, that made something in Daichi intrigued.

He would have to ask Iwaizumi or Oikawa about him.

As the thought struck him, he felt someone’s presence in front of his desk, towering over him. “Wanna have lunch with Iwa-chan and I?” Oikawa asked, any trace of annoyance having now disappeared on his side.

“Sure.” He said, with that usual smile of his. He moved to stand up, taking his bento with him and looked around the slowly emptying classroom, only to notice the guy - he really had to learn his name at one point - had left as well.

He didn’t mean to snoop around but he took note of the bento box peeking out of his bag, untouched.

They walked around the school building, still unfamiliar with their surroundings, trying to find a quiet place to sit and have lunch at. Iwaizumi had joined them, and he didn’t miss the way numerous students exchanged glances at the three of them, but also mostly at Oikawa.

He looked around the crowd for any familiar faces, fist-bumping a few of his old classmates as well as teammates as he walked past them in confident and bubbly strides.

Daichi had always been popular. Being class president for the entirety of middle school, captain of a successful rugby club and hanging out most days with both Iwaizumi and Oikawa had helped a lot, he thought. But he was also one of those students who couldn’t stand for any injustice, helped everyone he could the Sawamura way, which meant, never asking for something in return.

He trailed behind the two boys as they walked around the building, the pair bickering like they always did. It could sometimes feel like he was third wheeling or whatever, but he never minded. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were fun to be around. The two had a special bond, that he could tell, but it never felt like they were trying to snub him.

The spring breeze, rustling through his clothes and as cold as it was, whispered softly against his skin as they stepped outside.

They found a calm space under one of the many cherry blossom trees scattered around the school grounds and sat down, ready to eat their bentos.

“You won’t even believe what I’m about to tell you,” Oikawa said around a mouthful of tamagoyaki. Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow and Oikawa signalled for him to wait until he was done with what he was eating before he continued, “This guy in our class, he plays baseball and we played against each other in a tournament in middle school.”

He and Iwaizumi nodded, not sure where Oikawa was getting at, but letting him finish his story. “So I tell him I’m super sad he joined this school ‘cause I wanted to beat his ass again you know?”

“You’re an ass, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi deadpanned, Oikawa just brushed it off.

“And then do you guys know what he told me?” A dramatic pause. “Funny coming from someone who lost in the finals.” He imitates, his voice going comically higher.

Daichi and Iwaizumi looked at each other, then cocked both their eyebrows. “You deserved it.” They said in unison, earning themselves a groan from Oikawa.

“Stupid Suga-chan, he’ll see when I make the first string and he doesn’t.” Oikawa sounded angry but he was all bark and no bite.

The name didn’t ring any bells but it’s when Iwaizumi asked, all soft and curious around a mouthful of rice, “Suga? You talked to Sugawara?” that everything clicked in Daichi’s mind.

They must have been talking about that silver-haired guy, who had occupied his thoughts for the good part of the morning.

“You know him?” He sounded more incredulous than mad.

“Yeah we-“

“Are you guys his bullies?” Daichi blurted out, unconsciously, the two boys stopping their conversation promptly. The question had taken the both of them aback. Daichi had always been a fierce opponent to bullying and, even if he had known his friends for quite some time, he couldn’t help but ask them. Just to be sure.

“What? No! Suga and I are friends, I told you that earlier. Why would you think that?” Iwaizumi said. Daichi couldn’t help but notice the way he was picking at the skin around his nails.

“It’s just-“ He reconsidered his sentence. “I saw him talk to the both of you earlier and he looked rather...” He trailed off, trying to find his words, “Troubled.” His voice died down at the end of his sentence, shame casting over him, wondering why he had asked such a thing.

The two boys looked at him, mouth agape, unsure of what to say. “He seemed okay when we talked this morning, I’d say he was rather surprised than troubled.” Iwaizumi was the first one to speak up. “He did get a little weird when you interrupted us.”

So _he_ was the problem.

“He just-“ Just then, the school bell rang. “Dammit.” Iwaizumi groaned, setting his chopsticks down, half his bento unfinished.

“As slow as ever Iwa-chan.” Oikawa said as he moved to stand up, giving Iwaizumi a helping hand which the boy refused with a tsk. “Meanie.” He stuck his tongue out.

They walked towards their classrooms, separating once they were in front of Iwaizumi’s. Daichi didn’t miss the way Iwaizumi reminded Oikawa with a nervous smile and gentle voice to apologise to Sugawara.

The afternoon passed by in a flash after that, and soon, he found himself stuffing his belongings in his backpack, ready to go to practice.

That is, until he got appointed to clean the classroom with Sugawara.

They followed their teacher so he could show them the storage room for rags and brooms and came back as quietly as they went.

They each cleaned their sides of the room, which they had silently agreed on, Daichi looking up from the floor every once in a while to look at the other boy.

Daichi observed as Sugawara’s face opened into a beam, his gaze focused on what was outside.

“Uhm,” he started. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Sugawara, right?

“Yes?” Sugawara started cleaning some of the tables on his side, but approached him at the same time, Daichi doing the same.

“Are you- Do you- Which club are you in?” He knew the answer to that already. Social butterfly, that he was. But not when it came to having his first conversation with someone new. His cheeks were probably flushed pink, he could feel it, feel the skin growing warm.

Sugawara smiled. At least he was doing something right. “Baseball. You’re in the rugby club?”

He had probably figured that out this morning when he had interrupted him and Iwaizumi. “Ah, yeah.”

‘Am I bothering you?’ Was what he had wanted to ask, “Did you dye your hair?” was what he had said instead.

He watched as Sugawara’s smile faded, going as quickly as it came, like clouds swarming the bright sky before a rainstorm. “No I did not.” While calm and collected, those few words had felt like venom spewed at him. He didn’t have time to react before Sugawara reached the door, garbage bag in hand. “I’m done with my side, just gonna put this outside and I’m going to club.”

He let out a small “Okay.” that the boy probably didn’t hear, Daichi wondering what he had done wrong.

He cleaned, wallowing in his inner turmoil, a combination of dread and panic, thinking about whether or not his last question had been indiscreet, if he had crossed the line. They didn’t know each other after all.

“You got cleaning duty too?” Iwaizumi said, head peaking out the doorway as Daichi closed the last window. He nodded with a small smile, going over to where his friend was, backpack in hand. It felt heavier than it had been this morning.

They didn’t say anything to each other as they made their way towards the locker and then the club room to get changed, not feeling the need to. It was always quieter when Oikawa wasn’t here with them, but it was welcomed.

“Something happen?” Iwaizumi asked quietly. They were the only ones left in the club room, the other guys having already left for practice.

“Sugawara...How is he like? Usually I mean.”

Iwaizumi seemed taken aback, but he replied nonetheless. “Well, we haven’t seen each other since we were six or something so...” He trailed off, a light chuckle in his voice. “But he’s a nice guy. He’s fine with people he already knows but he’s always had trouble opening up to new people if that’s what you’re asking.”

Daichi realised he put his shirt on backwards and had to remove it, nodding at Iwaizumi’s statement, waiting for more information.

“He just had a troublesome childhood I guess.” Iwaizumi’s gaze dropped, fiddling with the hem of his rugby shirt instead.

“Troublesome?”

“I’m guessing you noticed the rather... unnatural colour of his hair.” He nodded, lacing his shoes. “He’s albino, he’s always been bullied for it as a kid.”

_Oh._

“That’s why I was surprised when you asked us that question during lunch. I was his only friend actually, and then I moved because some stuff happened and we lost touch.” Daichi cleared his throat, even more embarrassed than he had been during lunch. He really had made a fool of himself. “Why are you asking?”

Their eyes met for a second and it was Daichi’s gaze turn to drop. “I might have asked him if he had dyed his hair earlier... And he might have... gotten angry?” His sentence ended in a squeak, feeling Iwaizumi’s heavy stare on him. His cheeks had gotten warm once again and he just wanted to bury himself under a pile of dirty laundry.

“I’m guessing Suga will have to receive two apologies instead of one today. If Oikawa does so, that is.” Iwaizumi seemed indifferent and then he thought- that’s how Iwaizumi always had been. “Are you gonna put on your other shoe or do I have to?” Daichi just stared at him and before they realised it they were both bent in half laughing.

“As slow as ever Daichi.” He singsonged, emphasis on his name.

The atmosphere had gone from tense to playful in an instant, falling into old habits - reassuring. They left the club room quickly after, joining their new team already jogging around the field.

He recognised a few familiar faces from middle school, both upperclassmen and classmates, a perfect combination of familiarity and foreignness.

One minute they were bickering with their team, training and passing the ball, showing their skills off in the warm afternoon, and the next they were stretching in pairs, muscles exhausted from the lack of exercising the past two weeks, sky casting a pretty orange hue, skin glowing with perspiration.

The strong smell of sweat hit his nostrils as he walked into the tiny club room, heartbeat still loud in his ears, panting like they were in the middle of summer. He could feel his muscles starting to ache, dreaming about the well-deserved bath he would be taking later.

It’s when they stood by the school gate that Daichi remembered, and Iwaizumi too by the look on his face, puppy dog eyed. He would have to get used to going home without Iwaizumi.

He saw Oikawa waiting for them in front of the gate, back against the wall and bag slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t surrounded by his fangirls - unusual.

“Has Sugawara already gone home?” Daichi asked and Oikawa pointed towards a slowly disappearing figure in the distance, Daichi muttering a small thanks at that. He waved them goodbye, leaving towards his home, following the silver haired boy.

Sugawara took streets he had learned to recognise that morning, Daichi wondering what to say to him. Or rather, how to say what he wanted to him.

It’s when he realised that he had been lost in thoughts for the past 20 minutes, still following Sugawara who was entering the very familiar street of his home, that he decided to accelerate his steps. Daichi jogged towards him when he caught sight of Sugawara’s keys, not wanting to lose a single day to apologise.

He placed a hand on Sugawara’s shoulder, panting from the light exercising, before he heard a small scream followed by a word in a language he didn’t recognize.

_Fuck._

Sugawara’s keys dropped to the ground with a ‘clink’, Daichi not wasting a second to retrieve them and give them back to him.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” For the umpteenth time today, he had made a fool of himself. His cheeks were probably flushed crimson, but he put things into perspective when he realised Sugawara’s were too.

“Sawamura! I thought a creep was following me.” He noticed his hand squeeze his bag handle, something he had noticed that very morning too.

_A creep_. He had fucked up.

“I’m really sorry.” He wanted to keep the conversation going, say something, buy himself some time before the apology he hadn’t prepared. “Daichi is fine by the way.”

“Do you live here?” He sounded hesitant. Was he making him uncomfortable ?

“Ah yeah, just down the street. We moved in during the break.” Daichi shifted uncomfortably, thinking about what to say next. “I’m sorry about earlier. Iwaizumi told me it was a risky subject and I didn’t know.” He was looking at his own feet but looked up when he didn’t hear anything from Sugawara.

“What did he tell you?” His voice was shaky, maybe with the evening cold.

He just needed to tell him what Iwaizumi had told him, go home and that’s it. “Uhm, that you were bullied as a kid for your hair and-“

“Next time,” Sugawara looked up from his hands to stare into Daichi’s orbs, tension filling the air between them, “Don’t ask him for things about me.”

He could only watch as Sugawara opened the gate, consternation clear on Daichi’s face, looking at his lips as he said ‘Good night.’ before turning around without looking back.

He muttered a small ‘good night’ that Sugawara probably hadn’t heard, and walked towards his house, legs heavy from practice and nerves.

He had either definitely fucked up or this guy was a jerk. Or both.

He made his way home slowly, recollecting his thoughts. He wondered if he had done the right thing, had used the right words, repeating their conversation over and over.

At least he had apologised, he thought. Whether Sugawara accepted his apology or not was his choice.

Daichi stepped inside his home, warmth welcoming him. His siblings both ran towards him as best as they could, hugging both his legs once he removed his shoes. He held them both up, walking towards the kitchen where his parents were slowly dancing to soft music, chopping vegetables and meat to the rhythm of the beat.

He could do nothing but show them a smile when they turned around, his father ruffling his sweat-dampened hair.

“How was sweaty rustling in the mud today?”

“It’s called rugby dad.” He deadpanned, “It was alright, just feeling a bit sore.” He let go of his siblings as they were squirming in his hold, instead asking to be held by their father. “I was betrayed.” He faked-hurt, his parents could only laugh.

“Go take your bath, food won't be ready for another 30 minutes.” His mother cut small pieces of carrots and fed them to the kids, moving towards Daichi to feed him too.

“Mom.” He groaned, but ate it nonetheless.

Daichi went upstairs and disposed of his dirty clothes, running himself a much needed bath.

He could feel the soreness and tension leave his muscle as his skin hit the scorching hot water, putting his head under water for a couple seconds, thinking about his day, about Sugawara.

At first glance, Sugawara seemed like a nice guy. He probably was, but by the way they hit things off, Daichi thought that maybe they just didn’t click, and he shouldn’t try understanding him any further.

You can’t be liked by everybody, he thought.

He reappeared from under the water, hair flat against his forehead, observing the coarse dirt turn into mud under his nails. He washed his hands thoroughly as well as the rest of his body, sliding long fingers through short cropped hair to get rid of the excess of water.

The evening passed by in a flash after that. They had dinner together like they always did, the faint sound of the TV muffling the sound of chewing.

He couldn’t say no to his mother when she gave him seconds, couldn’t say no to his father when he asked him to wash the dishes as they put the kids to bed, couldn’t say no to his siblings when they came in his room as he was studying, eyes red with tears asking him if they could sleep in his room for the night.

He couldn’t say no, and he didn’t mind.

He went to bed that night, the twins snuggling closer in Daichi’s tiny bed, the soft sound of breathing filling the room as he tried to fall asleep.

He rubbed at his sleepy eyes and looked at the time - midnight. He shouldn’t get so hurt about his conversation with Sugawara. He shouldn’t.

He should talk to him tomorrow.

He will talk to him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked this chapter!! sorry for the wait ♥
> 
> thank you jojo for proofreading this<3


	3. to defeat...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memories hit him before he saw them coming. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you fatima for proofreading this ★彡  
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sugawraa) !  
> 

The memories hit him before he saw them coming.

The words that were spewed at him, the punches he had endured, still fresh on his body. The body that he came to hate. To resent.

A whiplash of emotions he could barely contain.

On Saturday, just like every other Saturday for the past decade or so, Suga found himself in the cream-colored and well-furnished room of a building in the center of Sendai.

Even after all these years, he still couldn’t get used to it. He hated talking about himself, hated talking about his so-called problems.

“Lost in thought, Suga-kun?” The woman sitting in front of him asked, her pen resting gently against her cheek.

Her eyes, a beautiful gold that complemented her tanned complexion and hazelnut hair, were comforting.

Oikawa-san was a pretty woman, no one could deny that.

Suga didn’t miss the way her tongue rolled around the ‘r’s, the way she sounded hesitant with every word she uttered, but still so confident. It reminded him of his own mother, who, despite having known Japanese for a long time, still spoke with a certain hesitation in her voice.

It was the reason why they chose her out of all the psychologists they had seen. Oikawa-san was born in France and moved to Japan with her husband. Suga could still hear the accent in her voice, letting him know she still spoke French at home, just like he did with his mother.

“Ah, yes sorry.” He could barely remember the conversation they were having, so he just looked at her, at the smile on her face, flashing him a straight row of teeth. He swore he had seen that smile somewhere.

“It’s good that your first month of high school went well. I’m not gonna lie to you, your mother and I were worried after what happened in middle school.” Her voice died down at the end of her sentence, recalling painful memories.

He remembers the times he would come to these appointments, all bruised up, shrugging his shoulders whenever she asked what happened to him.

It was obvious what happened. He just never said it out loud. Never could, the words always stuck in his throat.

She had never pushed and he was so grateful for it.

Suga watched as she stood up to go from the sofa in front of him to her desk, looking at the clock that hung on the opposite wall. They had already been talking for close to an hour.

“How about we see each other again in a month? The regional tournament will have ended by then, right?” She scribbled something down on her notebook as he nodded. “You’ll have lots of things to tell me, I hope.” She smiled at him as he moved to stand up, the ground unsteady under his feet.

“Yes,” he said, nervous fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his pants. “Uhm, Oikawa-san?”

“What is it, Suga-kun?” She asked, a tint of worry in her voice.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, biting his nails as he thought about what to say next. Why he was so nervous was beyond him. “I was wondering if you had a son named Tooru?”

“I do, yes.” She didn’t sound surprised. “How do you know?”

“He’s on my baseball team, and also in my class... You have the same name and, now that I think about it, you two really look alike.” He averted his gaze and looked at his own hands, now fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Was it him or was the room getting warmer?

“Is he causing you trouble?” Her tone suddenly changed from soft to scolding.

He couldn’t tell her about their little fight on their first day, so he settled on an easy answer. The truth. “No! Not at all, he’s quite nice actually. He’s my catcher, we’re working well together. And he didn’t even ask about,” He moved his hands in front of his own body and she nodded, “You know, me.”

“There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?” How this woman could tell his every expression was a mystery.

“He can just be... how can I say this... cocky sometimes, I guess?”

“He takes that from Heiji. You know how he is.” She laughed. “I’m glad you two managed to become friends. Tooru tells me a lot about this ‘genius pitcher’ he got paired with. I can see it in the way he talks that he’s grown fond of you.”

Suga blushed hard and she could only chuckle. “I’ll let you leave,” she said, smiling incredibly wide. He bowed and she did the same, standing up before ruffling his hair. “Be good.”

“I will. Goodbye, Oikawa-san.” With that he closed the door, a loud sigh escaping his mouth as he leaned against the closest wall, waiting for his legs to stop shaking.

One of the reasons he hated seeing his therapist was that feeling of dread and remorse caught in his throat. It made the world tremble beneath his feet when he recalled what he said to her, and the expression she wore whenever he told her something remotely disappointing. Sadness, guilt, _pity_.

When he got home, he once again found himself alone in the immensity of his house, his ‘ _I’m back_ ’ echoing against the wall, reaching absent ears.

He wished he could have someone to comfort him, a shoulder to cry on. His mother was usually there when he returned from his therapist appointments.

 _Usually_. It hadn’t been the case these past few months, when he had needed her the most.

Sugaoften ended up alone in his room, wandering aimlessly between thoughts. Brooding anxiety regularly rhythmed his weekends spent on his own.

He laid down on his bed, staring at the white ceiling dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars, pale yellow in the glowing orange of the late afternoon sun.

He cracked his eyes open with a sigh, awakening to the squeak of the front door. A glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was almost 7 pm. Pushing himself up on his elbow, he soon made his way downstairs, only to find his sister looking for something in the fridge.

He leaned against the doorway, watching her without a word as she poured herself some orange juice. His arms fell by his side, tired. 

It’s not that he and his sister didn’t get along. They did, sometimes. He just knew the reason she was here was to watch over him, and he did not like it one bit.

“You started picking at your nails again,” she said, observant, without raising her eyes from her glass as she drank its contents in one big gulp.

“Good evening to you too, Aiko.” She kissed his cheeks the way she’s always done it, loud and wet, before going to the living room. She plopped down on the couch and took up the entire space, her long blonde hair a mess on the armrest.

“How’s baseball? Going to Koshien this summer?”

“Regionals haven’t even started,” he deadpanned. His sister had never really taken any interest in baseball. No one in his family had. It was rare for his parents to watch his games, unless they were important. Which they haven’t been.

“Are you gonna make the first-string?” He watched as she turned on the TV, noise filling the background, his sister’s gaze on everything but him.

“Probably. One of the pitchers on my team got injured so I’ll probably have to replace him.” Suga waited for an answer, a hum, or just a nod, but seeing she was so immersed in her TV show, he decided to go back to the comfort of his room.

Sheer exhaustion made its way through his whole body, and he fell asleep as soon as his cheek hit the pillow.

The weekend flew by like it always did. Counting the hours that separated him from the mound. The view from the top.

Suga found himself in front of his desk for yet another day, the morning sun steady above the field sprawled out before him.

A bout of nervousness dawned on him when he remembered.

They would know their numbers in just seven hours. He would know whether or not he made the first string in seven hours.

He wasn’t worried about himself, considering Tashiro-san’s shoulder injury, but he was rather worried for Oikawa.

 _Together we can be invincible,_ he had said. Together.

He only pitched with Oikawa, he was only familiar with Oikawa. They were a battery. Together, as one.

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa chirped from the doorway. Speak of the devil. “Ready to receive our grades?”

“Grades?”

Oikawa hummed, sitting on the chair in front of him. “I saw Kawashima-san with a pile of papers.” Suga moaned and dropped his head in his hands. He knew he had failed his maths exam, and he couldn’t afford to take supplementary exams. “And then we have numbers later...”

“Don’t even talk about it.” He said, voice muffled against his palms. He heard a groan and spread his fingers to uncover his eyes, looking at the person behind the noise.

The classroom had started filling with more students, and Oikawa seemed not to care. He raised his voice. “Don’t act like you’re not gonna make the first string!”

“I'm not worried about myself, I’m worried about _you_.” He caught one of their managers waving at them as she entered the class and the two of them waved back, a blush spreading fast across her cheeks.

“Don’t be, I know we’ll both be on the first string.” Their teacher entered the class and Oikawa stood up, a smile on his lips. “Remember what I told you. Together.”

Oikawa was right. But the stress never left his chest.

He watched as their professor walked around the classroom, graded tests in hands. Hegave small comments to his classmates whenever he handed them their papers.

Sawamura was next and a small groan escaped his lips as he got his tests. Suga couldn’t help but look to his right to see his classmate’s grade. 40% on his English test.

It seemed like English was one of his weaknesses.

“Sugawara-kun.” His teacher handed him the papers.

Just like math was his own weakness.

“Full score on your English test, congratulations!” Why he had to be this loud was beyond him. He felt everyone’s gaze on him, crushing him with jealousy.

His teacher didn’t leave his desk, so Suga was sure he had something else to add.

“I’m not gonna say anything about your math grade but all I can say is that you and Sawamura-kun have complementary grades.” He smiled at the two of them. “You two should give each other private lessons!”

“Ahah yeah.” They both said in unison - strained. How about no?

He knew he failed his maths exam, but he didn’t think he failed that badly. With his cheeks flushed crimson, both at the way Sawamura was looking at him, and the fact his teacher had just embarrassed him in front of the whole class, he stuffed his test in his backpack, the crumpling of paper loud in the quiet of the class.

The sound of the bell announcing lunchtime was like an answer to his prayers. For this day to be over as soon as possible.

He waited for the classroom to empty a little before taking out his bento. One miserable egg, and a handful of rice sitting at the bottom of it. He wasn’t the best at making his own bentos.

Before he could get his chopsticks out, he noticed Oikawa’s form approaching him, his own bento in one hand and what looked like Pocari Sweat in his other hand.

“Do you always have lunch in the classroom?” Oikawa asked, his usual cheerfulness clear in his voice.

“Yeah, it’s quiet here.” He knew Oikawa’s request before he even voiced it.

“Come have lunch with me! I’ll take you to our usual spot.” With a small smile, Suga complied. He followed Oikawa around, never a step ahead or behind - in sync.

The way their battery was.

The warm spring air was nice against his hair as they stepped outside, the cherry blossoms long gone, replaced with vibrant green leaves.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa beamed at the sight of his friend, sitting down on a patch of grass, his tie loose around his neck. “I brought Suga-chan with me if that’s okay.”

“Yes sure.” Suga blushed then. They had barely talked since the first day of school, other than a small hi here and there, a fleeting glance, a wave.

It wasn’t enough, he knew that much, but Iwaizumi didn’t seem to mind.

Jealousy crept up on him at the sight before him. The bickering, touching - the look in Oikawa’s eyes whenever Iwaizumi said something.

He barely listened to their conversation, too focused on trying not to laugh at them - at himself.

It used to be them, and it could have been him. It could have been him beside Iwaizumi, exchanging looks and laughs like best friends do. But it wasn’t him, and it never would be.

Suga stared at his own food, a sour taste on his tongue.

“Sorry I went to the restroom,” a voice said from behind them. Suga looked up from his bento to jet black hair, easy smile on his face.

He hadn’t talked to Sawamura since that day a little over a month ago. Not out of pride, or even spite, but because he hadn’t felt the need to. And it wasn’t like Sawamura had reached out to him either.

They hadn’t even talked on the day they both got elected as class presidents - a surprise to Suga. It had helped that Oikawa had been his vice, he thought.

“Uhm.” Sawamura gazed down at Suga and moved to sit down opposite him, closing the circle they unconsciously made.

That _uhm_ hung heavy in the air. Everybody stopped talking, almost as if, _as if_ , they knew what had happened between them.

Oikawa’s eyes never left Suga’s, nor did Iwaizumi’s.

What was it with today? First waking up late, then finding out he had to take supplementary exams and now this?

He closed his untouched bento box before he moved to stand up. “I think I should-“

A hand found its way to his thigh before he could stand up.

Iwaizumi’s.

“Why? You’re not bothering anyone.” He didn’t miss Iwaizumi’s quick glance at Sawamura as he sat back down.

Sawamura was studying him, his gaze flickering to his face and to his hands. His cheeks flushed when Suga caught him staring. He munched down his food, and Suga wondered how they could all have an appetite under the unbearably heavy air. A heartbeat of silence passes between them, everyone in the circle staring at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.

Suga does.

“Do you guys have to take supplementary exams?” Nice. Steady and slow around a mouthful of rice that he had been chewing for at least two minutes now.

“Science. I’m to blame, I barely even studied,” Iwaizumi spoke up first, as expected of him. Suga finally gulped down his rice, relaxing at the easy flow of the conversation.

“I can’t believe you and Dai-chan have to take supplementary exams... Be careful, I might become top of the class.” Oikawa smirked into his drink.

“Impossible,” Suga and Sawamura said in unison, blush high on their cheeks.

“Are you guys top of your class?” Iwaizumi asked, voice squeaky - surprised.

“ _I am._ ” Suga and Sawamura stared at one another for a few seconds and they put down their bento boxes on the floor. They were both careful to put on the lids so insects wouldn’t fly in them, knowing whatever was about to happen would take a _very long_ time.

Iwaizumi laughed and began citing every subject they took exams for, Suga and Daichi answering with their grades each time. Oikawa got a paper and a pencil out of nowhere, adding up their grades.

“Science?” The last one.

“Eighty,” they both said. Suga hugged his legs to his chest, chin resting on top of his knee, waiting for Oikawa to add up their grades.

“What the hell,” he started saying. Suga grabbed the paper from between his fingers, nothing but astonishment on their faces. “You really do have complementary grades!”

“I mean, that’ll probably change with the supplementary exams-“

“I’ll grind him into the dirt,” Suga and Sawamura both interrupted Iwaizumi firmly, their voices never wavering and their gazes still fixed on each other. Determined.

Spite drove Suga to do better, drove him to have better grades. He always strived to be the best, in baseball, in everything, but it was neverenough. There was always someone better than him, a rivalry that couldn’t exist because Suga was always a step behind. Now though...

Now they were on equal ground.

The sound of the bell and Iwaizumi’s chuckle broke them out of their intense staring contest, both their bentos almost unconsumed.

It could seem pitiful to the eye of an outsider. A childish competition, something out of a movie. But in a society like Japan’s, all they could do was their best and hope not to be crushed by others.

_To defeat or be defeated._

He had been the defeated for too long. Not anymore, he thought.

They all stood up and returned to their classes with renewed vigour. The tension between Suga and Sawamura never ended, even once they entered the classroom. Their chosen battleground.

An annoyed sigh left Suga’s lips when math class came. He plastered a deep scowl on his face as he started copying down the equations on the blackboard that didn’t make sense to him.

Once their teacher was done, she turned around to face the class, pointing at a particular equation.

 _8÷2(2+2)._ Didn’t look too hard.

“Some of you may already know about this equation, so if you do, don’t say anything.” She said sternly.

“I want you guys to tell me your answer and how you solved it.”

Suga couldn’t care less about math, but he always tried to participate. He puffed his cheeks and pouted in concentration, staring at the problem in front of him as if it would solve itself the harder he stared. To his right, he could feel someone’s gaze on him, and when he looked around, he found Sawamura’s determined eyes staring directly into his.

A challenge.

He laughed to himself. Of course Sawamura would do this in his field of expertise.

He smiled and nodded. _Challenge accepted_.

Suga watched as Sawamura raised his hand, a proud smile on his face.

“The answer is 16.” They waited for their teacher to say something but, when she didn’t, he began explaining the way he solved it.

While Sawamura talked about the way he solved the equation, Suga thought a little while longer about it. He found something interesting.

“Shimura-sensei.” His cheeks felt warm all of a sudden. “I think the answer is 1,” he said, almost a whisper.

“Okay, go ahead.”

He took a look at Sawamura to his right, an amused smile on his lips.

 _Asshole_.

“Uhm.” He cleared his throat, wondering why he had done this to himself. “Two plus two equals four, two times four is eight, and then eight divided by eight is one.”

Their teacher didn’t say anything about the accuracy of their results, instead asking another person in their class to deliver yet another answer.

Oikawa complied.

“I think both are right, it just depends on the way you write it.” Both Suga and Sawamura turned around to look at Oikawa, their eyes meeting as they did so. Oikawa only waved.

“Very well, all three of you are right. Oikawa mostly.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out teasingly at both of them “The way I wrote it, 16 is indeed the right answer.” She turned her back to face the board, scribbling down the same equation, written somewhat differently on the blackboard. “This equals 1.”

When Suga turned to face Sawamura and realised dark orbs were already on him, the only thing he could do was avert his gaze awkwardly.

At 3:30, the bell rang like it always did. Suga joined Oikawa’s desk with bouncy strides.

“You’re being so weird today,” Oikawa commented as he finished stuffing his belongings in his bag.

Suga drummed his fingers on the desk. “What do you mean?”

They left the classroom in silence, Oikawa not answering until they were in front of their lockers and taking out their baseball gear. “I don’t know. Like, you’re all...cheerful and at peace.” Oikawa closed his locker with a loud _clang._ “And don’t think I didn’t notice that thing between you and Dai-chan.”

Hefting his bag higher up on his shoulder, Suga turned around to face him. “There’s nothing between us.”

Oikawa grinned. “Sure.”

Suga and Sawamura weren’t friends. They didn’t know each other. There was nothing between them, and anyone who thought otherwise was a fool.

Oikawa was a fool.

They made their way towards the club room. Some upperclassmen were already there, giving them a small wave when they entered the room. Everyone was nervous - a tension in the senpais’ shoulders. Their last chance at being on the main roaster. At going to Koshien.

Suga felt everyone’s knowing eyes on him as he put on his gear. Someone’s hand was on his shoulder when he tucked his shirt into his pants. Suga turned around to see a wide smile on their captain’s face, a squeeze of his hand, reassuring.

From day one, Kurokawa-san had made sure the first years fit in. His words were, _New beginnings aren’t always easy._ Right after Tashiro-san’s injury, he made sure the team didn’t lose motivation, and it never lost its spirit.

Kurokawa wasn’t an outstanding player but he was powerful, and he could easily get hits off of the signature pitches of most pitchers and aces. He was a pillar to the team: strong, both mentally and physically, and reliable.

He had instantly recognised Suga’s pitching abilities, as well as the harmony between him and Oikawa. Thinking no one could hear him, he had said to the coach, _they could be our main battery._

“I’ll be passing out your numbers at the end of practice,” said their coach, facing the team members who were already panting from their warm-up. “We’ll be doing fielding practice today. Some of you are great batters but you clearly lack speed!”

A chorus of ‘Yes sir!’ erupted and all the players dispersed around the field. They played mock games for the entirety of practice, learning plays for any situation, with and without runners on base.

Ukai-san was the one sending the balls. Despite once being a pitcher in his youth, he also had great batting abilities, no one could deny that.

With a loud clang, a ball flew straight into left field. Suga held up his glove to catch it, the sun flashing into his eye as he turned around to send it to first base. He threw it anyway, the ball dropping into the sand instead of the first baseman’s mitt.

“Sorry!” He called from where he was still standing, a thin bead of sweat at his temple. It rolled down his face and darkened the dirt.

“Sugawara wear your cap!” Ukai-san barked, his bat pointed at Suga.

He ran to the dugout to retrieve his cap, gulping down some water before going back to the field. Everybody was already exhausted and he could only shiver at the thought of what the summer training camp their coach talked about would look like.

By the end of practice, his uniform was soaked with perspiration. Brown patches of dirt and sand covered his usually white uniform.

Oikawa slung an arm around Suga’s shoulder, his own uniform in the same state as everyone else’s. The entire team walked towards the dugout, standing in rows in front of their coach, twenty numbered sheets in his hands. Suga’s previous nervousness came back as quickly as it had left and, when Ukai-san started calling names, everybody stiffened.

“Number 20, Hanamaki Takahiro!” The first year looked stunned and everyone clapped loudly as he walked on shaky legs towards their coach. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you sir.”

Hanamaki returned to his original place, next to another first-year. They seemed close, and Suga wondered if they used to be on the same team. He was the next one to get called.

“Number 19, Matsukawa Issei!”

“Yes, sir!” He said with a smile on his lips, hands shaking with excitement.

Their coach called upperclassmen after that, most of them third years. Tension grew among the rows of players as more of the pile of paper sheets emptied.

With a pause, Ukai-san eyed them - Oikawa and Suga. Suga could hear the smile stretch on Oikawa’s face as their coach called his name along with his number.

“Number 13, Oikawa Tōru.”

“Thank you!” He winked at Suga when he walked back towards the row of players. Suga waited for his name to come next, but it didn’t.

The air grew thicker around him as the numbers went down, the stagnant heat of May wearing down on him quickly.

“Number 3, Kurokawa Hiroki!”

“I’ll do my best.” Kurokawa, their captain, turned around and bowed to the team before walking back towards his mates.

Everyone held their breath as Ukai-san was about to call number 2, Tashiro-san’s number.

“Number 2, Sugawara Kōshi!”

For a second Suga didn’t move. Then, Oikawa pushed him forward, his legs not cooperating with his brain for the first few steps. “Thank you, sir.” He took the tag with shaking hands and returned to his place next to his battery mate unscathed.

“See, I told you.” Oikawa said with a grin, his hand safely placed on his lower back.

“Number 1, Matsuno Yoichi.” Their ace.

The main reason Suga had chosen Karasuno, out of all the schools that had scouted him.

A strong attachment to the mound, a fast curveball, the shoulders that hold the weight of the ace title. Matsuno Yoichi.

“I’m counting on you Matsuno, Lead the team like you always do.” With a smile, the third-year nodded. “I’ll put an end to practice now. I’m asking the third years whose names didn’t get called to stay behind a little longer. Eat something good tonight, you all deserve it.”

“Yes coach!”

Loud sobs broke out as they stepped out of the field.

This was the harsh reality of high school baseball. The team was made out of 20 players, the best ones. Unfortunately, all 65 members of the Karasuno baseball club couldn’t fit.

The atmosphere was still tense when they entered the club room, knowing looks exchanged between the upperclassmen as they changed. Kurokawa was the first one to speak up.

“I want every single one of you to reflect on how lucky you are to be a part of this team,” he began. “We must work twice as hard to carry the team to Koshien. Not just the twenty of us, but all sixty five of us.” He placed his hand in the middle of the room, and their ace Matsuno placed his own on top of Kurokawa’s.

Slowly, the other members did the same thing, approaching the forming circle. “Karasuno fight!” The team roared in the middle of the room, lifting up their hands to the ceiling, and the sky above.

Suga neatly folded his uniform in his sports bag, the number 2 tag carefully placed on top, a smile on his lips as he zipped it up.

The sun’s rays turned orange and gold on the sidewalk as he walked home, the swift rustling of leaves a pleasant background noise. He caught sight of Sawamura’s back when he turned the last corner to his home, stopping himself from calling to him.

He grabbed his keys from the front pocket of his backpack, taking one last look at Sawamura’s slowly disappearing form in the distance before opening the gate to his house.

Warmth engulfed Suga as soon as he stepped inside his home. His father was already there, loud steps on the wooden floor above his head. His mother welcomed him with a tight embrace. A groan made its way past his lips as she licked her own finger to remove a smear of dirt on his cheek.

“Mom-“

“Go shower.” Her voice was stern, but always with a tint of love.

He dropped his gym bag at the end of his bed, delicately removing the paper from it. He threw his uniform in the washing machine before hopping in the shower, sitting down in the stall. He rubbed at his shoulders, his calves, the skin around his bony knees turning purple with bruises.

The atmosphere grew thick when he stepped in the kitchen. His father’s gaze was on him, scrutinising.

“What is it?” He asked as he grabbed the bottle of water from the fridge, handing it to his father.

“You didn’t give me a kiss today!” He laughed and Suga complied, a small peck on his father stubbled cheek.

They sat around the table and started eating, the room quiet except for the clatter of chopsticks against porcelain.

The calm before the storm.

“How was your day?” his mother asked, her hand patting his bouncing knee. A gesture of comfort.

“It was okay.” He chewed on his egg and swallowed before continuing, “I had lunch outside with my classmates and we got our numbers today.”

“So...?”

“I’m on the first string. I’m number 2.” Suga’s parents stared at him, expecting more information. “I’ll be participating in the Miyagi Regional Tournament, to hopefully go to Koshien.” The thought put a smile on his lips.

“That’s great, Koushi!” She squeezed his knee and he could only beam, eyes closed and gums showing, like he used to.

“You got your tests results right?” His father said around a mouthful of rice. Suga choked on his water.

“I have to take supplementary exams for maths-“

“God dammit Koushi!” His father pointed his chopsticks at him, eyes burning with anger. He bit his lips so as to not let out any harsh words.

“Dad, it’s okay, I’ll study. I just-“

“Koushi... Is someone bothering you at school?” His mother interrupted this time.

“Do you have a girlfriend? It’s only your first year. What will happen in-“

“Am I not allowed to fail every once in a while?” He set his chopsticks down. Unbearable silence.

“You guys know I don’t like maths, and I tried my hardest to not fail this exam but, you know what? Shit happens! And of course you’re not gonna care about the fact I got a full score on my English exam because you guys never care!” He stood up at one point, his hands shaking with irritation and his voice wavering towards the end of his sentence.

_They never care._

“Koushi-“

“I’m going to bed.” His dinner was left barely touched, the lingering taste of yolk strong on his tongue - nauseating.

The loud slam of his bedroom door resonated throughout the whole house, the four walls surrounding him shaking with the strength of the push.

Strong words were shouted , in both Japanese and French, a few ‘ _Koushi come back down’_ s that he pretended not to hear. Suga just layed down on his bed, his pillow on top of his ears to muffle the sound of screaming voices downstairs.

Maybe he had been too harsh. His parents did care, he knew that much.

The words downstairs echoed, bouncing off every wall as he dried his tears on the cotton sheets underneath him. His fist was clenched against the fabric of his pillow in sadness and anger.

When the screaming died down, replaced by soft whispers, Suga opened the window.

He stood on shaky limbs, before sitting down on the windowsill and looking at the city sprawled out before him. Yellow lights in the streets, stars scattered around the night sky. It was all a blur with the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

He listened to the sounds surrounding him. Cars speeding on the highway, wind rustling leaves, slow footsteps, a dog panting, his sniffles so close, yet so far away.

“Sugawara?” someone called from the street. He didn’t have his contacts on, but Suga didn’t need them to recognise who it was.

He hid his sniffles behind a small cough and offered a small wave of his hand. “Good evening.”

Suga noticed the dog in front of him pulling on its leash, definitely not wanting to stop in the middle of its walk. “Congratulations on making the first string.” Sawamura gave Suga a shy smile, barely noticeable from the window without having to squint.

“How did you know?”

“Oikawa told us.” Suga blinked. Silly question.

The streetlights were turning Sawamura’s skin gold. Suga cleared his throat, a sob threatening to escape his lips for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Thank you...”

Sawamura was still there, a few meters away from him with his dog tugging on its leash and getting impatient, but he didn't move. “Uhm, Sugawara-“ he said after a few moments of stillness, of silence, hesitating.

A small knock, and not even a beat later, the voice of Suga’s mom reached his ear. “Koushi on voulait s’excuser-“ He craned his neck, almost losing his balance at the sudden intrusion. “Get down from the windowsill!”

“I’m sorry,” he said to both her and Sawamura, climbing down from the windowsill. To Sawamura specifically, he called, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” And with that, he closed the window, the cold air in his room turning stagnant under his mother’s gaze.

She bit her lip. Suga could tell that an apology was already on her tongue. “Mon chat.” Suga attempted a real smile. He failed at even that. His back hit the wall before he even felt it, sliding down with practiced ease. He didn’t dare look up, not even when he heard his mother’s slowly approaching footsteps. “Koushi, baby look at me.”

When he finally lifted his gaze, his vision clouded with tears, a sob escaped his chapped lips. She hugged him.

Tears wet the fabric of her shirt, her shoulders, and she let him cry, whispering apologies into his ear. Her touch was soft and warm against the skin of his lower back, where his shirt had ridden up in his fall.

“Ma crevette.” He stiffened at the word - she hadn’t used it in so long - as she kept stroking the skin of his sides with her thumb in slow, soothing circles. “We’re so, so proud of you.”

He sniffled, loud in the quiet of his room, the sound bouncing against the walls surrounding them. “I’m sorry we can’t be here much.” She brushed the silver bangs away from Suga’s eye. She cupped his jaw and Suga looked directly into her eyes: a deep blue that were nothing like the golden he wore.

“It’s okay to fail sometimes.” _You know how your dad gets sometimes_ , she didn’t say it, but it was clear in her voice.

“I wish things were easier.” Suga sniffled, their foreheads touched and she kissed his cheek.

She held him close, the way she always did, tight and warm. “You and me both, Koushi. You and me both.”

That night, buried in his textbooks, he didn’t sleep a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary  
> Summer Koshien : It's an annual baseball tournament, otherwise known as the 'National High School Baseball Championship'  
> "On voulait s’excuser" : French for "we wanted to apologise"  
> "Mon chat" : French term of endearment, it can be translated to "my cat"  
> "Ma crevette" : French term of endearment, it can be translated to "my shrimp"


	4. ... or be defeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't what he had expected to hear the day before the regional tournament's finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you brin for proofreading this !! ★彡  
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sugawraa) !  
> 

“Oikawa-kun pulled a tendon in his knee. It isn’t bad, but he won’t be able to play during the finale tomorrow as starting catcher or even as a batter.”

It wasn’t what he had expected to hear the day before the regional tournament’s finale.

Or maybe he had.

It all started during practice two days before, when Oikawa attempted to stand up after practicing in the bullpen, letting out a hiss of pain, he dropped back to the ground and onto his ass. Suga had been quick to notice, Tashiro-san’s injury still fresh in their minds. He had helped him stand up, he should have seen the signs right from the start.

“It’s just a cramp.” He had said, a shrug of his shoulders, displaying confidence and a radiant smile, all that for it to crumble the day after.

A mock game, between the first and second string players. Oikawa’s third at-bat. His leg had given out after his fifth step towards first base.

They didn’t even know how he had managed to run after his previous at-bats.

He should have noticed, is what Suga told himself as they held a meeting in the coach’s office. The captain had stayed behind with Suga until Oikawa came back from the clinic, anxiously pacing hours afterthey had put an end to practice.

It was eight when they came back. The June sun had already set, the strong lights around the field madehis complexion paler than it already was. A small breeze sentgoosebumps acrosshis skin.

“I-I can play though, it won’t even hurt with painkillers!” Suga looked at his knee, obviously swollen under his compression pants. It may not hurt but there could be great damage.

“Oikawa-kun-“

“Please let me play in tomorrow’s game.” He carefully bowed, to the coach, to Kurokawa, to Suga.

“What if it worsens?” Suga spoke up after a tense and uneasy silence, the kind that felt like hours had passed when only seconds had.

Of course Suga wanted him to play, Oikawa was the person he trusted the most once on the mound and they had gone this far because they were together.

But he couldn’t let his selfishness ruin Oikawa’s future and brilliant career as a catcher.

“It won’t,” Oikawa answered curtly.

At that, Suga felt his breath falter, knowing that he was wrong.

“You don’t know that, Oikawa.” Oikawa’s hands balled into fists by his side, teeth biting into the flesh of lips until theydrew blood. “We’re still in our first year, what if you cause more damage to your tendon and can’t even play at Koshien? Or for the rest of our high school years?” He saw Oikawa get more and more upset with every word he let out.

“If we lose and the third years have to retire, it’s on you.”

Kurokawa gasped but Suga wasn’t surprised, just disappointed.

“Oikawa-kun,” Their coach said, stern, and Suga didn’t miss the way Oikawa flinched at the tone, “As your coach I cannot let you play tomorrow.”

Oikawa tsked, knowing it would be useless to discuss with their coach any further, he bowed nonetheless, a small ‘bye’ escaping his lips at the sound of his mother’s voice waiting outside.

“Suga, if we lose tomorrow-“ _I don’t want you to blame it on yourself_.

“We won’t lose.” The words felt sour on his tongue. He couldn’t help but let uncertainty crawl up his spine after what happened.

“Of course.” Kurokawa smiled at him and bowed before heading out. His legs shook when he closed the door behind himself, back hitting the wall as he took a deep breath.

Oikawa had barely reached the stairs when he came out of the coach’s office. Suga helped him climb down the stairs even after his refusal for help. Reason eventually gotthe better of him, an arm safely placed around his shoulders to help him support the weight of his body on his right knee.

He didn’t say goodbye when they reached the bottom of the staircase, but Suga waved anyway, reaching absent eyes in the dark of the night.

He didn’t bother eating that evening, knowing that whatever would go down his throat would comeback up at one point.

If he had stayed up all night, it would have made no difference to his exhaustion. He was up and ready by 6:30, a record for a Sunday morning. He had been too nervous to go back to sleep.

The TV was on the menu screen of the movie he had watched the night before, the all too familiar silence of his home was unnerving.

This wasn’t the usual bout of nervousness he felt before a game. Oikawa’s words were settling deep down in the pit of his stomach, affecting him much more than he should have let them.

The smell of food made him gag but he still made himself something to eat for later.Bit by bit, he sipped his glass of water, waiting for time to pass on the family couch, nestled in the blanket he had fallen asleep in the night before.

Seconds stretched like hours and nothing felt right, not even the grit of his nails under his teeth.His hands trembled around his glass and he put it down so as to not spill water on the couch. He stoodup, bare feet on the cold floor, andmade his way outside, sitting on the stairs that lead up to his house.

His parents' absence was expected, though he wasn't sure he even wanted them to show up. They had called him the night before, ready with an apology that he quickly dismissed before changing the topic.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, Suga unlocked it with trembling fingers.

 _can i call you ?_ It said. He didn’t even have to check who had sent him the text before he pressed the call button.

A click, and a sigh, his leg had started to bounce up and down with nerves.

“Hey.” A smile in Suga’s voice.

“Hi, already awake?” Iwaizumi Hajime's morning voice was rough and distinct through the receiver.

“Have been for the past,” He pulled his phone away from his ear to check the time, focusing on the numbers instead of his too-rapid heartbeat, “two hours.”

A hum, Iwaizumi wasn’t feeling talkative. He never was, at least not during their calls before games, if Suga had to be honest. “You’re up early too.” Suga observed as he scratched at a pretty itchy bump on his leg, the warm air of June was perfect for mosquitos.

“Hmm, I have to get ready for the game.” He heard the sound of rustling in his ear, Iwaizumi was probably still in bed, blanket pulled up to his chin.

“You know Oikawa won’t be playing right?”

“So I can’t come to watch you play?” He didn’t say anything for a while, didn’t need to, bit his lower lip instead.There was a lull in the conversation so long that all Suga could focus on was his heart beating louder than he thought it could. “Suga?”

“Yes?”

A deep breath on the other side of the call. He could almost feel it against his nape.“Don’t let his words get to you.”

“Don’t worry.”

From upstairs, he heard the clock beep to signal that it was 8:30, so he ended the call before moving back inside to grab his bag. Iwaizumi had told him to meet him up outside the stadium before the game started, just to say hi - his words.

The sun was still low in the sky as he made his way to school, along the empty roads that came with a Sunday morning. A few cats strolled around the streets, some of them daring to follow him even as he entered the school grounds.

The air still had a slight breeze, one that would surely disappear once they were in the center of the city, surrounded by rows of bleachers and underneath the scorching hot sun.

That was one thing he was dreading, the sun. If the game stretched long enough, its zenith could surely be towards the end. Tsuyu season had already started, bringing with it the sticky humidity that announced rain.

Goosebumps still broke on his arms at the sight of his team slowly boarding the bus, nerves forming knots in his stomach.

“Suga.” Oikawa’s knuckles had turned white against the handle of the crutches, he waved, a small and hesitant smile on his face. “Can I sit next to you on the bus?”

The question had him taken aback, but he was used to Oikawa’s antics by now. “I’m taking the window seat.” He could hear the smile stretch on Oikawa’s lips as he shoved his bag into the bottom of the bus.

Ukai-san checked off players’ names as they boarded, the usual ruckus meeting his ears when he approached the back rows of seats.

“Oikawa! Suga!” Hanamaki called, pink hair bright amidst the dim sunlight. “We saved you a seat.”

He didn’t know much about Hanamaki and Matsukawa but they were fun to be around, they were easy to like, simple to get close to. He had learned a few weeks ago that they had both been on Oikawa’s team in middle school, and both of them had gotten offended when Suga had told them he couldn’t remember them.

The whole ride over, Suga could feel a gaze insistently boring a hole into him, though Oikawa said nothing. He took it into himself to speak up instead. “What is it?”

“Are you okay?” Suga knew his face went as pale as a sheet. He didn’t quite respond, giving a small hum instead.“Did you eat?”

“Please don’t talk about food or I’m going to throw up.” He hated the way the word rolled off his tongue, he bit his bottom lip as hard as he could to prevent himself from throwing up everything he had in his stomach, even if there was little else but water.

The bus came to a halt and his stomach seemed to settle when the stadium came into view.

“Can I?” Oikawa pointed at his wrist and he frowned. “Trust me.” Suga nodded slowly before Oikawa placed three of his fingers across his wrist, applying pressure with his thumb right below the patch of skin his index finger was previously on, rubbing circles for a few seconds as their teammates got off the bus.

“My mom taught me this,” he smiled as his eyes remained fixed on the two moles on his wrist, “it’s called acupressure, if you do it right here it will help relieve nausea.” He let go of his wrist before applying pressure in the webbing between his thumb and index finger, his touch always careful. “This point reduces stress.”

“Thank you.” He whispered as Oikawa stood up on wobbly legs, weight supported by his crutches.

“I wanted to apologise, for yesterday.” Suga’s grip on the armrest tightened. “I was an ass. And you were right, I should be more careful about my health, I’d rather not play for this game than never play again.”

“Did Iwaizumi knock some sense into you?” Suga smiled at him, shy and happy.

“Believe it or not, but I can think for myself, Sugawara!” Oikawa smiled back. When their eyes met, they burst out laughing, tears prickling at the corner of their eyes as they clutched at their sides.

By the time he arrived in the bullpen to warm-up, his stomach had settled. It could have been the sight of the mound, or Koga’s reassuring presence in front of him as he threw a fastball into his mitt.

“Your form looks great today.” Koga said as he threw the ball back, the rosin sticking to his fingertips as he tossed the ball in his hand. “Give me your changeup.” He held his mitt out and Suga raised his front leg and flung the ball forward, the sound it delivered loud in their ears. Ukai-san’s whistle had been unexpected but satisfying.

“The game won’t start for another 40 minutes, so go take a small break.” Ukai-san called from the dugout. “And drink plenty of water, it’s gonna get warmer later!”

They complied and jogged to the water cooler, two cups waiting for them. The two boys each downed their drinks in one fierce gulp.

He saw Oikawa’s form retreat into the locker room and he followed him, catching up fairly quickly.

“Iwa-chan told me they were waiting outside.” His eyes were soft with something Suga couldn’t decipher, a smile pulling at Oikawa’s lips.

“Who’s ‘they’?” He said with air quotes,following Oikawa outside anyways.

“Iwa-chan, my mom, and Dai-chan!” Suga stopped in the middle of the stairs they were climbing to get out of the arena, the sound of crutches in front of him coming to a stop. “What? Gonna get the yips because your bestie is coming to watch you play?”

Oikawa had noticed Suga and Sawamura’s complicated relationship right from the start, and he couldn’t help but tease him about it whenever he was brought up in a conversation. By the time Suga reached the top of the stairs, his cheeks were flushed a crimson red, and not from the slight exercise.

The sunlight caught in Sawamura’s dark eyelashes, casting small shadows on his slightly pink cheeks - from the wind, Suga thought. His mouth was slightly ajar as well, and he couldn’t help but notice his chapped lips as they turned upwards and into a smile, a single dimple in his right cheek.

More and more people surrounded the area around the stadium, some of them accidentally running into Oikawa, earning them a well-deserved death glare as they made their way towards the little group gathered in front of them.

On Iwaizumi’s shoulders sat a little boy, no older than 6 in Suga’s opinion, and two other toddlersstood next to Sawamura, their little hands grabbing at the legs of his shorts, probably his siblings. The three of them had jet black hair, as dark as who he guessed was their mother standing next to them.

He didn’t know Iwaizumi had a little brother, and he didn’t know why this information hurt him so much.

“Take-chan!” Oikawa said as he sprinted towards the little boy with some difficulty, ruffling his short-cropped hair, the little boy pouting at the touch.

“Tooru, let go of your nephew!” Oikawa-san said from behind Iwaizumi, jabbing the brunette in the ribs.

Oikawa’s nephew. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

He only now noticed the orange and blue stripes on all of their cheeks, even on the toddlers standing on each of Sawamura’s sides.

“Good morning.”Sugawara bowed shyly to all of them, a small smile at his lips when the two kids bowed as well.

He’d never admit it aloud, but he was jealous. He wished his family had come, even if baseball was a sport they weren’t interested in. He wished they would at least be there when he would come home, but it seemed unlikely. He’d always yearned for what Oikawa had probably always had; support,assurance, friends and family that would cheer him on. Suga swallowed and said nothing when Oikawa started chatting easily with his acquaintance. He felt out of place, like he didn’t belong there, around the arena, in his baseball uniform.

Oikawa-san had noticed, like she always had. “Suga-kun you can go to your parents if you want.” She said, earnest.

He combed his hair with a shaky hand. “Ah, they’re away for the weekend, it’s okay.” Oikawa-san frowned at first, but attempted a smile - pity, he recognised that look all too much. “I’ll go back in the dugout.” He answered, feigning a sad smile of his own. Before he could fully turn around, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Good luck, we’re here to cheer you on.” Iwaizumi said, but for some reason, his gaze was steady on Sawamura, a blush rising to his cheeks, at him, at the words -he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know.

“Thanks.” He managed to choke out with a half-smile, too embarrassed to say anything else. He took the stairs two at a time, the hallway filling with baseball enthusiasts and families, as well as scouts from universities.

He found himself sitting down on a bench in the shade of the dugout, thumb pressed firmly on his wrist to avoid getting sick. The tick of the clock counting down the time ’til the start of the game was loud in his ears, tuning out the chatter buzzing around the stadium.

From the corner of his eye, he saw purple, the Shiratorizawa’s colour scattered around the bleachers. They were favourites after-all, with their newly acquired southpaw, Ushijima, baseball specialists had been sure the three-time winners of the Miyagi tournament would once again get their ticket to Koshien.

They were strong, no one could deny that, but Karasuno had reached the finals, they were on the same stage now. Sure, Oikawa could have helped with bringing that pitcher down, having faced him just the year before in a tournament, but Suga was confident they still could win, Oikawa or not.

When Oikawa came back, it was already time for the teams to line up. He let go of his crutches and Suga helped him walk towards the front of their dugout, the noise of the crowd reaching new levels as the brass bands and cheering squads began to perform.

He locked eyes with Ushijima across the field from them, focused and ruthless as the rush swept overhim - the beginning of a new battle.

“The Miyagi Qualifier finale is about to start, under the warm June weather, both teams are here to take their tickets to Koshien. Shiratorizawa is here for the fourth year in a row, while Karasuno hasn’t reached the finale in seven years-- may the best team win!”

“Bow!” Yelled the umpire from behind home plate, the two teams bowing sharply at one another. “Good luck!”

“Let’s go!” shouted both captains, a loud roar of ‘Yeah!’ erupting throughout the stadium.

* * *

The field looked small from where he was standing, definitely smaller than a rugby field. From up there on the stands, he could see the orange and navy blue of the Karasuno uniform sprawled out, the chants of trumpets and horns filling the stadium, cheering for both teams to do their best.

Bottom of the fourth inning, neither team had scored off of each other yet, but the exhaustion could already be felt in the way both batters and pitchers played.

Sugawara stepped up to the plate, swinging his bat before positioning himself in a batting stance.

Shiratorizawa’s ace held his leg high up in the air, his arm high in the big blue sky before throwing his first pitch. They all looked towards the score board - 154 km/h. Sugawara hadn’t even swung.

Iwaizumi was biting his lip next to him, one of the twins sitting on his bouncing leg. Bringing his arms together and raising his front leg, the ace stepped forward, slinging his right arm.

Sugawara swung and the ball connected with his bat with a cracking sound, the stadium filled with an explosion of cheers and cries as Sugawara took off, running towards first plate.

They watched the ball fly straight into the right fielder’s mitt, putting an end to Sugawara’s run as well as this inning.

Sugawara hadn’t pitched yet but everybody was expecting him to do so at any moment.

“Karasuno High School has announced a change in players. Replacing Matsuno-kun as pitcher is Sugawara-kun, pitcher, Sugawara-kun. Replacing Fukui-kun as catcher is Koga-kun, catcher Koga-kun.”

At the second announcement, whispers filled the stadium, disbelief clear on the faces of the Karasuno cheering squad who were expecting the Sugawara and Oikawa battery.

They had kept Oikawa’s injury a secret from everyone, and no one had seemed to notice that Oikawa hadn’t batted yet, despite the fact they had gone through the entire lineup at least once now.

“Hopefully Suga won’t be too affected by the sun.” Iwaizumi said, chin resting on top of his brother’s head. He looked up and saw the sun was already high in the sky, Sugawara’s hair glowing a beautiful shade of silver under his Karasuno blue cap.

From far away, they watched him pick up the rosin bag by the mound before tossing it high into the air waiting for the batter to place himself in his designated box.

He adopted a batting stance, fiercely looking at Sugawara standing high on the mound, swinging his bat experimentally once before his hands tightly gripped at it.

Sugawara nodded at the sign his catcher gave him, and began to wind-up. He brought his hands together and his foot slammed down on the ground, his arm whipping forward as the ball shot towards the batter.

The ball had slammed into the catcher’s mitt with a gunshot-like crack that resounded across the stadium, a proud grin on Sugawara’s face. Daichi couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

He tasted iron on his tongue as he got ready to take the mound. It was searing heat under the zenith, the batter already tapping the dirt off his cleats with his bat as Suga tossed the rosin bag.

He watched it, up and down, up and down, dropping at his feet with a small thump muffled by the noise of the crowd.

The moment his foot slammed down on the mound, ground solid underneath him like steady waves after a tsunami, the ball connecting with his catcher’s mitt, he knew they could win, that they finally had a chance to beat the giants that were Shiratorizawa.

“Strike!” Called the umpire, thunderous applause following his voice.

Lowering his bat, the batter held out his hand to the mound, adjusting his footing in the batter box, returning to his batting position. Gaze fierce, his presence seemed like a huge and insurmountable wall.

Not to them.

“A high fastball.” Koga signaled before tapping into his mitt, and with a nod, Suga raised his front leg and flung the ball forward. The batter swung, but missed.

“Strike!”

Koga threw the ball back, squatting back down. Suga looked into the stands as he wiped the sweat off his brow, undershirt already soaked with perspiration under the sweltering heat of the sun.

He always ended up finding him despite not intentionally looking for him. He hated the traitorous clench of his heart, imprisoned by his ribs, screaming to be let out.

He looked back at Koga just in time to see his signal, a low slider to the inside. His eyes followed the streak of white made by the ball zooming through the air, and they glowed with triumph when the ball charged into Koga’s mitt. The more he pitched, the hotter the fire in him burnt to match the day’s weather.

“Strike! Batter out!” Cried the umpire, the Karasuno bleachers cheering for Suga.

Nine pitches had sufficed to end this inning, and the one after that.

“Shiratorizawa High School has announced a change in players. Replacing Kawata-kun as pitcher is Ushijima-kun, pitcher, Ushijima-kun.”

He hadn’t expected the unmistakable earthquake that was Ushijima, both in the batter box and on the mound.

Suga gave up a hit and Ushijima had easily reached first base.That alone had been enough to throw Suga off his game.

Top of the seventh, and the number one lit up next to Shiratorizawa’s name on the scoreboard. They had managed to keep it at that, the fielders efficiently tagging out the baserunners.

He felt the sun beating down at the back of his neck as he made his way towards the dugout, holding his breath when he met Ukai-san’s gaze.

He was smiling.

“At this rate, I thought we would go into extra innings!” Ukai-san laughed when he reached the dugout, two cups of water filled to the brim for Koga and him.

“I’m sorry, it was my fault I lost control-“

Ukai-san tsked. “We’ll get the points back, don’t worry.”

They never did.

When Suga went back on the mound at the top of the ninth inning, he didn’t expect the ball to go soaring into the air, over the back fence.

A home-run, with one runner on second base. Ushijima was an aggressive all-rounder after all.

His nails dug into the palm of his hand as he watched Ushijima and the other runner walk around the diamond, the number 3 lighting up on the scoreboard.

He removed his cap, wiping the sweat off his forehead and ruffling his hair before putting it back on, rosin sticking to the strands as the next batter got ready in his designated spot.

“Already two outs, give me your cutter.” Koga signaled, and for a few seconds, Suga hesitated.

Koga got to his feet, taking off his mask, asking for a time-out. Suga’s eyes grew wide under his cap. The scrunch of the dirt under the infielders feet got louder in his ears and soon, he was surrounded by his team.

“What’s wrong? You’re completely out of it.” Koga asked, gentle.

“We’ll get the points back, Suga.” Kurokawa said, a firm hand placed on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone, Suga!” He heard, this time from the dugout. Oikawa had stood up, leaning against the rail. “So get your ass back in the game!” He shouted.

Suga blinked, his muscles relaxing at the warmth his team’s comfort had brought him.

“Yes!” Suga shouted back with renewed vigour, infielders and catcher going back to their position around the diamond.

His breathing had returned to normal by the time Koga crouched down and gave him the same signal.

With his jaw set determinedly, Suga nodded, brought his hands together before throwing his cutter. His eyes widened when the batter took a firm step back, swinging deeply.

With a crack, the ball bulleted past Suga, but before the batter could reach first base, Kurokawa tagged him out.

“Out!”

The crowd, which had gone fairly quiet when the ball had met the bat, exploded into a loud roar.

Bottom of the ninth and Matsuno grabbed his bat before walking towards the batting box - their last chance.

He swung at the first ball that came at him and it connected, the ball flying high into a quickly darkening sky, they watched as he threw his bat aside and began to run, Suga’s heart pounding at the sight.

He saw the left fielder scoop up the ball, and in the same motion, sent it to the first baseman just as Matsuno stepped onto the base.

“Safe!” The base umpire cried out and, amid the cheering in the dugout, Suga pushed himself up with the bat, and walked towards the on-deck circle with a smile on his face.

The bright sun had since retreated behind a flurry of thick clouds, and the day's dry breeze was replaced by one that carried the scent of rain.

The crisp sound of the bat against the ball resonated through the stadium as Hanamaki’s bat connected with the ball after Ushijima’s second pitch, immediately throwing his bat aside with a clatter as he raced to first base.

Matsuno and him reached second and first base respectively, under the crowd’s cheers and claps.

Rumbling from the sky began to drown out the crowd as he stepped into the batter box. He stared Ushijima down. Whatever storm was coming, he was looking right into its eye.

He let him pitch once, twice, a strike and a ball. When he saw the next pitch flying towards him, he lowered into a bunting stance, and a look of surprise flickered across Ushijima’s face.

With screams coming from the dugout, adrenaline sent him off, a flash of white on his left as he dropped to slide. Just barely managing to reach the hard plate and-

Too late. A triple play.

When the siren signaling the end of the game rang throughout the stadium, he felt the first drop of rain on the exposed skin of his arm, still stretched towards the plate.

Hanamaki outstretched a hand to pull him to his feet, ignoring the scattered drops of rain that fell down his face.

He never left his side as they walked back to the dugout, an arm slung around Suga’s shoulder. His vision was trained on the blackening dirt even as they lined up to shake hands with the winning team.

His eyes swept the cheering stands, looking for any familiar faces, to no avail.

It was only after he’d gotten his shoulder iced and gotten inside the bus that Suga let himself go. His shoulders began to heave, the burden of a pitcher heavy on them. Unable to carry the weight of it all, he hunched down, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes and dropping onto his uniform, smudged with dirt and grass stains from the last inning.

Except for the suppressed sobbing and muted whispers, the bus was quiet. Oikawa’s face was blank and emotionless when he boarded the bus, sitting across the aisle from him.He pulled the fabric of his uniform up with a tightly clenched hand, using it to wipe away the tears and snot gathered on his upper lip.

He didn’t miss the way Oikawa put his windbreaker on top of his head, loud sobs muffled by the clothing. He had forgotten his own at home and he regretted it.

His chest ached and ached, Suga was not a stranger to failure, but this one had particularly hurt. It wasn't just about certain teammates having to retire, it was about this team as a whole becoming the first one he had been comfortable around. It had become a home outside of his home. All of that disappearing in front of him.

His mind had gone blank by the time the bus came to a stop in front of the school, barely hearing Ukai-san’s voice over the sound of muffled cries in the meeting room. It had been something along the lines of ‘you guys did great today’. But they hadn’t done enough.

He hadn’t done enough.

Kurokawa, an apology already on his tongue, stopped Suga as he made his way out of the cramped room, Suga waved a hand dismissively, a small smile disappearing as soon as it came. He could feel the bile in his throat as he caught the last sight of his team, standing in front of the building, still sobbing.

The rain didn’t stop as he made his way home but it had softened, and he couldn’t care less about catching a cold in the midst of June.

“I’m home.” He said as he opened the door. The tick of the clock in his parents’ room was all that broke the silence. He removed his shoes and decided that sleep sounded like the best option, nevermind that it was only two.

As soon as the hot water cascaded down his body, he cried again, whimpers and hiccups echoing through the stall, tears mixing with the water pooling at his feet.

Taking a few shaky breaths, he sat down in the shower with his back against the cold tile wall, andstarted tracing circles on the skin of his thigh, goosebumps prickling his skin.

He cried for what felt like hours, no mind paid to the water turning cold.

On wobbly legs he turned off the water, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles were prominent under red eyes, and his hair was a wet, tousled mess flattened from the weight of the water, not to mention a few tones darker.

He eventually started his homework for the week, having been unable to do so the night before, too preoccupied with the oncoming game.

Even then his mind wandered, in too-risky territories for his unhealed heart. He thought back to the look Kurokawa gave him before he left, a mix of sadness and something else that he couldn’t quite decipher, the quiet sobs replacing the sound of the engine as they made their way back to school, impossibly dark eyes of a brunette that he drowned in, high on the mound, long eyelashes casting shadows on honeyed skin.

How long had he been adrift?

By the time he looked up from his textbooks again, the sun had already turned an orange hue, white walls golden as he turned around on his chair. Outside the window,the distant sounds of the day’s end seemed to be enough to get him out of his house and onto the still-empty streets of Sendai, a baseball bat and ball in hand.

Eight in the evening found Suga throwing his ball into the fence of an abandoned tennis court not far away from his home. With each throw came a new emotion, sadness, anger, loneliness, guilt.

He lifted his right leg, his arm crossing his chest in the process, a loud cry escaping his lips as he threw his cutter, pretending Oikawa was there, with him, catching for him in the cold of the evening. With a rattling sound coming from the metal fence, the ball dropped to the ground.

His shirt clung to him like a second skin, wet with a mix of rain and sweat. The breeze sent shivers down his body, reminding him that his windbreaker was still on the back of his chair at home.

He squatted down to retrieve the ball, callused fingers tracing the seam. He hated to admit it, but it didn’t feel as comfortable against the palm of his hand as it used to.

As he walked back to where he stood earlier, he thought about the look his teammates would be giving him the day after, wondering if the third years would keep playing or retire, whether or not they’d focus on entrance exams, rather than their terminated high school baseball career.

He straightened up and changed the grip he had on the ball, his finger on the seams rather than the leather, preparing for a splitter. He had secretly worked on that new pitch with Oikawa, and it could have made its debut in today’s game if it had been his mitt instead of Koga’s. He wondered what would have happened if he had been there.

Would they have won?

He delivered his splitter, the scraping of metal loud in his ears. Before he could get the ball, a dog came running after it, its mouth a bit too small and stretching around it.

“Hey!” Suga called as he walked towards the dog slowly, the dog taking off towards the place it came from.

In the dark of the night, he noticed someone, its owner probably, and it was only when he walked under a lamppost that he recognised him. He waswearing the same outfit he had seen him in earlier, except for a mustard hoodie hanging low on his waist. The trace of orange and navy blue paint smudged on his cheeks subtle, the two colours having mixed themselves to turn into a beautiful brown to match his eyes.

“Koya! Give it back!” He said as he crouched down, and the dog complied. Suga approached Sawamura, his cheeks slightly pink under the yellow light. “Ah, Sugawara.”

He probably looked pitiful, with his eyes glowing with already-spilled tears, hair sticking to his cheeks and neck with sweat and rain, his sleeping shirt too loose at the collar, a few holes at the neckband.

Sawamura handed him his ball and Suga just stared at it, at the saliva dripping from it. “You can keep it.” He said, shy and a little bit disgusted, nervous fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

He dropped the ball to the floor then, his dog not wasting a second to start playing with it. “Do you come here often?” Sawamura asked - genuine.

“Only when I’m upset.” His voice wavered on the last word. “I’d like to come here less often.” Sawamura seemed surprised at the straightforwardness.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” He ran a hand through his hair, messy black strands sticking to his fingers,

He hummed, pretended to think about it even though he already knew his answer. “I don’t have anything to talk about.”

Sawamura blinked at him, his dog’s leash dropping at his feet, squatting down to retrieve it a little bit too fast, a little bit too unnerved. “Well, I do.” He played with the metal clip of the leash, Suga watching it open and close with a small ‘clang’. “There are swings not far from here.” He smiled and led the way without looking back, Suga following him unconsciously.

His heart beat fast between his ribs as they sat down, the clinking of the metal chains hanging low in the air, Sawamura’s gaze heavy on him, studying him. “Here to pity me?” He said, the ball of his foot firmly planted on the ground, a small back and forth.

“No I was here to walk my dog.” Suga chuckled and they both looked at his dog chasing its own tail, the baseball long forgotten. “Are you okay?”

He was sure his eyes were sad, that he looked far from okay, but he nodded anyway. “Could be feeling better.” Was all he said.

There was the rustle of leaves to his left, and soon, the air stroked his face, going through the thin material of his soaked shirt, shivering at the ice-cold feeling. He regretted not bringing his windbreaker.

To his right, Sawamura stood up and detached the hoodie tightly wrapped around his waist with the sleeves, handing it to Suga with a small blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable in the dark of the night.

“I don’t need it-“

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” Sawamura sat back down on the swing, clearly avoiding Suga’s eyes.

His ‘thank you’ caught in his throat and he choked on the words, putting on the hoodie as a way to muffle his ragged breathing. He breathed it in when the collar was against his nose, and it was warm, different.

It smelled like sandalwood and homemade curry, a strange combination he thought, unfamiliar, and yet, he was letting himself drown in it.

“You can give it back to me tomorrow.” Sawamura said, before whistling, a sharp sound, his dog coming back from where it was playing in the shadows of the playground. “You did great today, on the mound I mean.”

His mouth went dry at the compliment, his heart in his throat, threatening to spill out. “Well, judging from the outcome, I didn’t do well enough.” He laughed but it was bitter. “Sawamura, if you’re trying to cheer me up-“ _It’s not gonna work._ Was what he wanted to say. But he got interrupted before he could.

“Daichi.” Suga watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, his breath catching in his throat when he turned on his swing to look at him.

“Right.” Suga turned on his own swing as well, their knees bumping in the process. He noticed the goosebumps appear on the skin below his knee as the wind blew.

“I’m not good at giving pep talks but,” the dog jumped in Daichi’s lap and Suga moved his hand to scratch its head, “it’s okay to feel sad over a loss, though what matters the most is that you guys gave it your all, and that you had fun, I think.”

Suga stared at him for a few seconds, disbelief clear on his face and then he was laughing, laughing so hard tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, clutching at his sides and leaning forward. “That’s the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard!” He laughed and laughed and laughed, loud in the empty night sky and Daichi was staring at him as he wiped the tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes. “Sorry.” He tried to stifle the remain of a laugh.

Daichi was the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve, straightforward and open about his feelings, Suga seeing it both in the way he talked and the way he smiled.

“Well at least it managed to make you smile.” He whispered, loud enough in the quiet of the night, and Suga blushed hard, wondering if the evening air had gotten warmer. His dog whined in his lap and got down, looking up at Daichi, waiting expectantly. “I should go, it was nice talking to you.” He almost seemed disappointed that he had to leave so soon, and he didn’t want to admit it, but he was too.

Suga waved at him,practically invisible from where Daichi was standing but the boy still waved back, and soon Suga stood, lonely, in the 9pm darkness.

He made his way home slowly, steady on his feet, the world nothing like the earthquake he felt earlier. When he got home, he ate what he had prepared that very morning for lunch, sitting on the floor in front of the TV in the living room, chewing on a piece of bell-pepper.

Suga, didn’t have a great relationship with food, to say the least. It wasn’t rare for him to skip breakfast, lunch or dinner, spending 30 minutes just looking at his plate and poking at his food until he got the courage to finally take a bite.

Eating on your own was pretty lonely after all.

He was in bed before ten, too lazy to get changed, and moving under the covers still in his ratty t-shirt and Daichi’s sweater, having just removed his pants to be more comfortable.

He curled up in bed, staring at the ceiling and the way too old glow-in-the-dark stars, that don’t glow in the dark so much anymore. To his left, he saw the moon and Ursa Major, neither barely noticeable in the city night sky. Light pollution was too strong in the middle of Sendai to observe constellations.

That night, he fell asleep fast, drowning in Daichi’s scent, the taste of defeat still sour on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary 
> 
> Right Fielder : the outfielder in baseball who plays defense in right field  
> Cutter : breaks away as it reaches the plate. Mix of a slider and a fastball. Faster than a slider but with more movement than a fastball.  
> Triple play : a defensive play in which three runners are put out.  
> Splitter : breaks down suddenly right before the plate 


	5. ups and downs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine o’clock on a Monday morning found him staring at the empty desk to his left, as if its usual occupant would suddenly appear if he looked at it for long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you brin for proofreading this!!! Enjoy <3  
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sugawraa) !  
> 

Nine o’clock on a Monday morning found him staring at the empty desk to his left, as if its usual occupant would suddenly appear if he looked at it for long enough. He didn’t.

Daichi was worried, of course he would be. He had seen the look in his eyes, barely noticeable in the dark of the night, but still so strong. Sadness mixed with guilt and anger.

He shifted his attention away from his whirling thoughts, instead concentrating on their English teacher’s voice droning on from the front of the class.

When the clock struck twelve and their teacher let them out for lunch, Oikawa was quick to get up and reach his desk, standing with only one of his crutches.

“If you’re looking for Suga-chan, he texted me earlier to call in sick.”

Daichi narrowed his eyes. Had his gaze on the seat to his left lingered on a bit too long?

“Could see your leg bouncing with stress from my desk,” Oikawa continued. “That nervous about tonight’s meeting? I’m not sure if you know, but I’m replacing him.”

The undoukai meeting, which would be his first official meeting as class president that year, was being held that evening. It would determine which sports and events would take place during undoukai in early September. He was looking forward to it, despite having to miss rugby practice.

“I’m not nervous. I was just wondering why he wasn’t here, that’s all.” Daichi turned to grab the bento box in his backpack, and found Iwaizumi coming up behind Oikawa and wrapping his arms around his waist in a back hug when he’d come to face Oikawa again. Oikawa didn’t even flinch, the boy so used to the touch. Iwaizumi had long abandoned his jacket, showing his now honeyed-brown skin from the baseball game just yesterday.

“Lunch together?” Iwaizumi asked, his chin propped up on Oikawa’s shoulder, lazy smile on his lips. He looked over to the desk to Daichi’s left, a pout on his lips when he realised it was empty. “Suga’s not here?”

“He told me he caught a nasty cold yesterday, he didn’t feel like coming today.” Oikawa flicked his forehead with his index finger and Iwaizumi groaned, letting go of his waist in the process.

Lunch was relatively silent, he didn’t dare mention yesterday’s loss, knowing it was probably hard on Oikawa, who had obviously been seconds away from crying when they had lined up at the end of the game, rain pouring down on them as they shook hands with the winners.

Thunder was heard not far away as they packed up their lunch box, Daichi now glad he was missing practice because his uniform and mud clearly didn’t mix.

“You live near Suga-chan’s place right?” Oikawa asked as they parted ways with Iwaizumi, the storm had gotten closer, raindrops falling loudly against the window pane, a flash of white distinct in the horizon.

“Yes, I do.” He said, noticing Oikawa’s usual smile turn into a smirk. “Why?”

“Well, he asked me if I could bring him homework and all…” He trailed off, and Daichi could already guess what he was about to ask, “but you see with my leg and everything-“

“I’ll bring him the stuff we did today.” Daichi interrupted. Oikawa blinked at him as he opened the door to their class, before beaming at him, wide.

“A real gentleman!” Oikawa slapped his back loudly, and all Daichi could do was groan, both at the comment and gesture, before getting back to the humdrum of a school day routine.

History passed by in a flash and so did maths, the domination of the Fujiwara clan during the Heian Period, as well as probability and statistics long forgotten. He was assigned to cleaning duties before his meeting, his usual cleaning mate replaced by one of the girls from the track team. The atmosphere was different from the three other times he had been cleaning with Sugawara, but he didn’t know if it was a good kind of different.

By the time the meeting ended, the storm had already died down, green leaves and branches on the ground in its wake, the air warm and stagnant, nothing like it had been earlier.

A small drizzle was still coming down as he made his way home, enough to dampen his hair, flattening it like a small curtain over his forehead. He walked through the playground, much livelier than it had been the night before with Sugawara, the distant hooting of an owl replaced by screams and laughter. Silence was uncomfortable when it was just the two of them.

He stood in front of the gate to Sugawara’s house, pressing down on the intercom. He heard a bell from inside the house and readied himself to face Sugawara’s parents.

The door opened and even from where Daichi stood he could see the look of surprise on Sugawara’s face, wearing the familiar hoodie he had lent him just the night before.

“If you’re here to get your hoodie back, I haven’t washed it yet.” He said, a small, awkward smile pulling at his lips.

“Ah no it’s,” He turned his backpack around, grabbing his notebook, pencils falling to the floor in the process, “Homework.” He could hear Sugawara’s soft laugh as he picked up his pencils, followed by a small buzzing sound from the gate.

“Come in then.” Sugawara grinned and opened the door wider, revealing long thin legs tightly hugged by compression pants. He turned around, and Daichi nearly dropped the pencils he’d just collected, pulling his gaze away from Sugawara’s ass.

“I seem to remember texting Oikawa, not you.” He said in a stuffy voice, watching Daichi remove his shoes in the genkan.

“He asked me to do it instead, since we live in the same area.” He answered, eyes darting around. “And well, considering his injury and all, you know.” Sugawara hummed at the last statement and led him further inside the house.

“I’ll go grab my phone to take pictures of your notes, if that’s okay.” Daichi nodded, and Sugawara disappeared upstairs.

Daichi waited in the living room and shivered at the cold atmosphere of the house. He thought to himself about how it was empty, save for Sugawara, despite the time of day. Compared to his own home, which was vibrant and bustling even before his parents had had the twins, it was devoid of background music, TV, or other ambient sounds of life. It was easy to hear footsteps and wood creak from upstairs, with nothing else to fill the silence.

He scanned across the living room furniture before his gaze drifted towards the wall, filled with family pictures and diplomas. One of the pictures caught the most of his attention, a chubby Sugawara who seemed no older than 5, pouting as he held what looked like a white pet rat in front of him.

“What are you looking at?” Sugawara asked and Daichi straightened before turning to face him, meeting glassy eyes and flushed cheeks from his cold.

“Ah uhm,” he saw Sugawara tilt his head just a little with clear amusement, “Is that a pet rat?” Daichi pointed at the picture he had been staring at, noticing a few more details on the picture as he did so, the bright red flower crown contrasting with the white of his hair, the sunflower yellow overalls hanging loosely on his small shoulders.

Sugawara laughed, the way he did just earlier, just yesterday, and he wiped at the tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes. “That’s not a pet rat, that’s a ferret, Daichi.” A weird sensation bubbled at the pit of his stomach at the mention of his given name but he brushed it away.

“Oh…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say. He could feel Sugawara’s intense stare on him but he didn’t dare face him. “Homework?” His tone was just on this side of squeaky.

Sugawara led him to the coffee table, and Daichi bit back compliments about how he looked in the orange rays of the sunset. He stopped himself from saying something about how Sugawara’s white hair was almost glowing, how warm he looked in his sweater and in the light, how-

“Sorry for the mess, I was analysing yesterday’s game.” Sugawara cut through Daichi’s string of thoughts, pushing scattered papers and notebooks together into a neat pile.

The mess, Daichi thought, wasn’t the mess he was used to. He was used to his siblings’ toys laying all around the living room floor and sometimes on the hallways that lead to their respective rooms. So messy that he’d step on them by accident at night, on trips to the bathroom. He was used to piles and piles and piles of his father’s files scattered all around the kitchen table. So messy that tomato sauce, or whatever dinner ingredient, would end up spilling on them.

This, he thought, wasn’t messy. But he didn’t mention it.

He took a look at the T.V., the recording from yesterday’s game stopped on the first year pitcher from Shiratorizawa as he began to wind up. “Skipping school because of club activities? That’s bad, Sugawara.” Daichi grinned and the look on Sugawara’s face was priceless.

“Shut up! I was really sick this morning, you know!” Sugawara sputtered before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Suga is fine, by the way.”

Suga’s cheeks were flushed crimson and he tried to hide his face in the neckband of his hoodie. “Okay then, Suga.” He smiled.

Going through the lessons they had that day with Suga wasn’t so bad, he thought. He thought back to what their teacher had told them just a few weeks ago, when he had handed them their papers.

 _You two should give each other private lessons!_ Kawashima-sensei’s words had sent a shiver down his spine back then, at how absurd they had sounded, but he started considering it.

There was something about Suga, whatever it was, that made Daichi insanely curious. Maybe it was that sad expression, the one that he always tried to hide behind shy smiles and unruly bangs, that sad glimmer in his eyes that seemed to come from far away, that he tried to bury and bottle up to no avail.

There was something about Suga that made Daichi insanely curious, something he couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the occasional flicker of sadness in his eyes. It was discrete, and distant, and seemed to be consciously buried, but Daichi caught glimpses of it from time to time.

Suga clicked his tongue at a particular page and Daichi leaned forward to look at it, noticing his frown form a small crease in between his eyebrows.

“I wish maths just... didn’t exist.” Suga said, resigned. Daichi watched him extend his arms on the coffee table they were sitting at, joints cracking as he did so before smiling up at Daichi. “How do you even get perfect scores on that?!”

“All you have to do is practice. And I could ask you the same question with English!” Suga moved to sit upright, his left eyebrow cocked.

“Well, all you have to do is practice.” Suga imitated, his voice going comically lower. They looked at each other for a few seconds before exploding into laughter.

They didn’t say anything for a while, each trying to catch their breath. “I wouldn’t mind helping you with maths.” Daichi said first, glancing towards the family picture beside the TV.

He felt a stare lingering on him. After a pause, Suga hummed. An acknowledgement of thanks, maybe? Daichi wasn’t sure.

“T-Thats… Yes, I’d like that.” He paused, silence heavy between them. Daichi turned to meet his gaze and caught sight of a pink tongue, Suga licking his chapped lips. “I could help you with English as well, if you’d like.”

Daichi was smiling so wide his jaw started hurting. “That’d be great.”

Time passed by with less uncomfortable silence, Daichi explaining things Suga didn’t understand from the day’s classes.

As Suga wrote down a simplified version of a particular problem in Daichi’s notes, he couldn’t help but study Suga’s face. His eyes were sad, sleep-deprived, red around his irises. His skin was pale, and the sides of his face were somewhat sunken, the bone in his jaw prominent. He thought back to that picture of Suga he had seen earlier, all smiley and chubby cheeked, different from the person that was in front of him.

“What is it?” Suga asked, setting his pen down and observing Daichi, his brows furrowed.

Daichi leaned back on his palms and extended his legs under the table, his foot nudging Suga’s knees. “I was wondering, aren’t your parents here? I mean, they are obviously not here right now, but-“

“No, they aren’t here.” Suga cut him off, and Daichi watched his jaw tighten as he explained. “They are away for a few days.”

“Both of them? Even if you’re sick?” It seemed insane to Daichi, his parents’ absence despite their son’s sickness, his parents’ absence at the important game from just the other day.

“Yes.” The orange sunlight was caught in Suga’s eyelashes and Daichi saw the look on his face, clear bitterness.

“Have you eaten today?” Daichi asked, throat running dry as Suga held his stare.

“Daichi, look,” Something in his tone sounded off, “I know you mean well, but I’m fine, really.”

“But-“

“I’m often on my own, so it’s not like me being sick would have changed anything.” Suga’s shoulders trembled and Daichi wondered if he had said too much.

“I’m sorry I just- I just thought that they would…”

“What? Stay at home with me and make me food? Make sure I’m okay and well rested?” Suga’s fists clenched and unclenched above his notebook. “I don’t have the perfect little family you have, Daichi.”

A sourness sat thick on the back of his tongue as he muttered an apology and stood up to leave. It wasn’t until his shoes were on and he was about to open the door that he heard socked feet on cold tiles padding towards the genkan. Suga’s hand placed on Daichi’s shoulder, adding to the weight they carried. “Wait, I-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” Daichi lied.

He closed the door behind him, making an effort to avoid looking Suga in the eyes.

Rain began to fall the moment the door clicked into place.

* * *

Tuesday went by awfully slow, torrential rains occasionally interrupted by rays of sun. He should have stayed at home, Suga had thought more than once during the day, but he couldn’t afford to miss class two days in a row.

Because the weather forecast announced heavy rain all week, each club was assigned to one day in the indoor training grounds. Today, the track club had it, and every other club’s activities were cancelled until their respective days.

Lunch had been louder than usual, as the classmates who’d usually spent the break outside ended up mixing in with everyone else. Oikawa had asked him to have lunch with him, Iwaizumi and Daichi in another classroom but he had refused, not wanting the tense atmosphere between him and Daichi to affect the group altogether.

He knew he had to apologize for going too far, but he wasn’t sure how. It killed him to think about how well things had gone just the other day, like they were just about to get past that uncomfortable stage.

Strangely, he had missed Daichi’s heavy stare on him during class that morning, he had missed the small smiles and glances shared between them before raising their hands to give an answer.

He had ruined it all, hadn’t he?

The clock ticked closer and closer to half past three, and Suga watched the rain pour down outside.He checked the umbrella basket to the right of the entrance. Empty. He guessed he would have to sprint home under the rain and pray he wouldn’t get another nasty cold.

He removed his baseball windbreaker from his duffel bag and draped it over his head for some semblance of a cover. His first few steps towards the rain were hesitant, and he paused right outside the building, each heavy drop beating down on the fabric above his head, the ones carried by the wind landing on his shoes and pants.

“Doesn’t seem like it’s stopping anytime soon, uh?” A voice came from inside the building and he didn’t need to turn around to recognise whose it was.

Suga’s stomach twisted in on itself, his hand gripping his bag handle until his knuckles turned white. When he turned around, Daichi was standing there, a fond tilt at his lips. Suga fiddled with the hem of his jacket, still sitting on top of his head.

“Yeah,” Suga started, but he didn’t know how to finish.

Daichi’s gaze was heavy on him. “Want to share my umbrella?” He asked, leaning against the doors.

There was a small part of him, the pitiful, stubborn part of him, that wanted to say no. But there was another part, the much bigger, regretful part, that wanted to say yes, to try and patch things up, and to avoid getting sick once again.

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, by the way.” He watched the tip of Daichi’s ears turn red and he thought his own might be the same if not darker.

After a moment of hesitation while fidgeting with his uniform’s sleeve, Suga nodded. “Okay then.”

Their bodies touched under the umbrella, pressed together at their shoulders, and he felt his heart beat so strongly he hoped Daichi couldn’t hear it. The wind was blowing, the temperature had dropped a few degrees compared to the morning, but he felt warm.

The umbrella threatened to fly away multiple times and he grabbed the handle before it could, just below Daichi’s hand, their skin slightly touching. Daichi’s palm felt hot against his, something like a human furnace.

The atmosphere was heavy, as he stood under the umbrella a few centimetres away from the person who was supposed to be mad at him. Daichi hadn’t said anything about the day before, as if nothing had happened.

As he caught sight of his home, Suga spoke up. “I uhm, I washed your sweater, by the way.” He hesitantly said, trying to hide his blush with his bangs in vain.

When Daichi didn’t say anything, nor seem to react, he continued. “You could come over for a few minutes so I could give it back to you…” He trailed off, still waiting for an answer. “Or I could just give it back to you tomorrow it’s okay.”

“Today is good.” Daichi threw him a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corner, and he felt warm inside at the sight.

“Good, okay.” Suga led the way, opening the gate to his house and, as he did so, noticed a light coming from the living room. Unusual for this time of day. Maybe he had forgotten to turn it off that morning before leaving for school, which happened more often than he’d liked, and also earned him a few good scoldings from his mother.

He expected his ‘I’m home’ to bounce off the walls without a response, but it didn’t this time. His mother’s voice reached his ears before she appeared from the living room, surprise clear on her face.

“Hello Koushi, brought a friend home?” She said with a wide smile, too wide for it not to hide anything.

“Hi, yes, I have something to give back to him.” He removed his shoes in the genkan, motioning for Daichi to do the same.

Suga watched Daichi as he bowed to Suga’s mother, still standing in the living room’s doorway. “I’m Sawamura Daichi, one of Suga’s classmates.” He said, looking up to see her nodding at him.

“If I remember correctly, you’re the other class president, right?”

“That’s… yes, that’s right.” Suga jabbed Daichi in his side with his elbow in an attempt to deal with the awkward mood - a friendly gesture of sorts.

“We’re going to my room for a few minutes.” Suga struggled to speak, a newly-formed lump in his throat. His mother hummed and left it at that, her gaze intense on the both of them as they went upstairs.

Suga led the way, Daichi following behind him. They entered his bedroom, the creak of the door matching the creaks their footsteps made on the way. He immediately regretted not disposing properly of the piles of tissues on his bedside table, hoping Daichi wouldn’t notice them, or if he did, that he wouldn’t think of anything weird.

He took a deep breath and walked over to where he had put Daichi’s hoodie, handing it to him, their fingers brushing lightly as the other boy accepted it. Suga’s hair found the perfect time to fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes as well as hiding his slowly creeping blush.

“Thank you again,” His words caught in his throat and he coughed in his elbow, “well, I still got sick, but it could have been worse, I guess.”

Daichi blinked, but smiled, tying his hoodie around his waist, just like it had been the other day. “Glad I could help.”

“Is that Ohtani Shohei?” Daichi asked, looking towards the poster on Suga’s wall. The two of them were too close for his liking, close enough that Suga was worried Daichi would be able to hear his heart racing again.

He turned around, staring at the Ohtani Shohei poster hanging next to his bed, the only baseball-related gift his parents had ever given him. “Ah yes, that’s him. Do you watch baseball?”

“Ah no, well apart from Oikawa’s games, I don’t really watch baseball.” He could see Daichi fidgeting with the fabric of his hoodie, dark complexion against mustard yellow. It suited him, he thought. “My dad watches baseball a lot though. He’s from Sapporo, so he always watches the games. He thinks he’s a great pitcher.”

“He is, despite his injury in last year’s Japan Series, that is. He couldn’t play during the World Baseball Classic, which sucked.” Daichi’s eyes had narrowed. It was probably gibberish to him, Suga thought. “Sorry I got carried away, I rarely get to talk about baseball to someone who’s not from my team.” He tried to laugh, but it came out choked.

“No it’s okay, it’s…” Daichi hesitated to continue his sentence, and Suga’s face probably screamed for him to keep talking, “It’s, uhm… Your parents don’t watch baseball?”

“Nope.” Suga said, popping the ‘p’. “They never took any interest in it, even when I started playing.” Suga took a step back and sat down on his desk, his legs dangling. “They actually watch rugby a lot though, French rugby mostly.”

He grabbed the baseball on his desk, bouncing it in his hand. Their conversation was going unexpectedly smoothly.

Daichi cocked his head to the side, and Suga tried so hard not to laugh at the sight. “French rugby? Why?”

“Ah,” The ball fell to the floor , rolling towards Daichi’s socked feet, Suga watching him pick it up and toss it back softly, “My mom is French, which would explain why she doesn’t really like baseball, it’s not as popular over there as it is in Japan.”

“I see,” Daichi walked closer to the desk and sat down next to him, a tiny part of Suga’s mind wondering if it would break under their weight, a bigger part of his mind yelling about how close they were, their pinkies touching on the surface, “Maybe we were exchanged at birth.” Daichi muttered, a huge smile on his face.

Suga chuckled. “Why?!”

“Your parents like rugby, I play rugby, my parents like baseball and you play baseball.” He explained, looking serious. Suga couldn’t help but laugh, Daichi doing the same, clutching at their sides at how unconvincing he had sounded.

“Unless you were born in France, I highly doubt we’ve been exchanged at birth, Daichi” Suga said once they had both caught their breath.

Daichi’s eyes went impossibly wide. “You…You were born in France?”

Suga hummed and Daichi gaped, which made Suga chuckle. The sky had suddenly cleared, sun-rays streaming through the windows and hitting his skin, feeling even warmer than he already did.

“I should probably go while it’s not raining.” Daichi got off the desk in one swift motion, Suga doing the same and leading the way downstairs.

Suga felt his body tense up and go limp at the same time, as if it couldn’t muster the strength to apologize. Guilt weighed heavily in his mind as he watched Daichi turn to say goodbye. He grabbed the sleeve of his windbreaker before he could go, Daichi’s face filling with surprise. “I’m sorry for yesterday.” He let go of Daichi’s jacket and looked down, mind racing at the lack of a reaction.

“I feel like all we do is apologise.” Daichi said, and Suga looked up, noticing Daichi’s downcast eyes and small smile. “It’s okay, I was totally out of line.”

“No!” Suga flinched at his own raised voice, turning around to make sure he had closed the door behind them. “You… you weren’t, you weren’t out of line, Daichi. I know this is not an excuse or anything but I…” He trailed off. “I’m not used to people making sure I’m okay, and when people did so it was mockingly. I-” He choked on his words, recalling painful memories “I know you’re not like that, but I still felt like I owed you an apology for what I said yesterday, I was the one who was out of line.” Suga hoped Daichi hadn’t noticed the tremble in his voice.

“You’ll learn that I hardly hold grudges, especially when I’m not really done wrong.” Suga could hear the smile in Daichi’s voice, and saw Daichi raise his hand. “Let’s forget about it?”

“O-Okay.” They bumped their knuckles together, a peace treaty.

They looked at each other for what seemed like hours, seeing Daichi’s eyes stare right into his made him blush. He looked away again, thanking the gods for his longer hair. “I still plan on grinding you into the dirt you know.” He said, lips pinched in a playful pout.

Daichi shook and pinched the bridge of his nose to suppress his snort. “I never expected you to stop.” Daichi looked straight into his eyes with a determined expression.

“Also my offer still stands.” Suga informed, sassily.

“Offer?”

“About helping you with English.” Daichi’s mouth formed an ‘o’ in understanding. “Only if you’ll help me with math, that is.”

Daichi snickered and Suga couldn’t help but smile at how easily their conversation was flowing, no longer feeling like it was forced on both sides. Maybe having a little fight here and there wasn’t so bad, after all. “I see. Want us to be on even grounds, then, Suga?” Daichi smirked, and he felt something warm settle at the pit of his stomach at the mention of his nickname.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The sun was warm but blocked out by the stinging cold wind, cheeks flushed with what he passed off as the weather.

They smiled at each other for the longest time and left it at that for the day, Daichi stepping away, one step, two steps, before turning around completely. Seeing him slowly disappear in the distance, the hoodie around his waist waving in the wind, gave him a feeling he hadn’t expected to feel - warmth, and for the first time, he was looking forward to seeing Daichi again at school, and more than looking forward, he longingly awaited until they would talk again.

* * *

July, August, September passed quickly, turning green leaves brown under the heat of the sun.

Summer vacation had felt unexpectedly short, the warmer days spent staying inside, and the rare, cooler ones spent playing catch with Oikawa outside.

More than once had he wanted to go down the street and to Daichi’s house, and ask him to hang out, but he never mustered the courage to do so.

He got ready for school just like every other day, notebooks getting replaced by towels and water bottles, along with spare clothes for undoukai. Daichi was outside his door at 8am sharp, a habit they had formed before summer break, a similar duffel bag to his resting against his hip, skin golden in the light of the morning.

“Hey, long time no see.” Daichi said, smile obvious in his voice as they started walking side by side, roads stretching miles ahead.

“Yeah,” Suga smiled to himself, playing with a pebble on the sidewalk with his foot, watching it roll away, down the storm drain, “Did you go somewhere during summer break?”

Suga saw Daichi nod in his peripheral vision before speaking up. “I went up North for a few days, to Sapporo.”

“Visiting family, I’m guessing?” Students started filling the streets the closer they got to their school, he waved at a few of them as they kept their conversation going.

“Yes, with my mom and siblings. Have you been anywhere?”

“Just went to Tokyo for two days to see my older brother and his girlfriend.” Suga smiled.

He got along with his brother, despite the age gap. He and his sister were totally different, while she was a party animal, his brother was something much closer to an hermit. Suga had somehow ended up being a mix between the two, though much closer to his brother in personality when he was younger.

“We’re going to be rivals today.” Daichi smirked, and Suga could only laugh, their voices attracting onlookers.

“As if we ever stopped being rivals.” Suga chuckled before he turned to face Daichi, who was giving him a mischievous smile, dimple and all.

“I thought we were friends…” Daichi said, faking hurt and placing a hand over his heart.

“I’m so sorry to have led you on, Daichi.” He laughed, the sound of conversation dying down when they entered the school grounds.

Vibrant colours on huge posters greeted them at the entrance, a stark contrast to the yellowed leaves that refused to fall from the trees. The ambience was opposite the undoukais he had participated in back in middle school.

In front of the school building, amidst cheer practice and the buzz of student life, the club advisors handed out bandanas to their respective team members. The baseball team had been assigned Karasuno orange, while the rugby club donned navy blue.

Suga had been quick to notice Oikawa and Iwaizumi, talking and standing in their usual lunch spot, Iwaizumi’s bandana wrapped against his bicep, his sleeves rolled up to expose toned muscles.

Oikawa excitedly waved at them from his spot under the tree, tan obvious on his skin, as with a sunburn in the high points of his face. He wished he could be as careless with his skin as Oikawa was, the grease of the sunscreen he had applied that morning already making him sweat.

“Hi!” Oikawa said with a bounce in his step, the strain in his knee long forgotten. “Dai-chan are you participating in the three-legged race this afternoon?

“Hey,” Daichi smiled, struggling to tie the headband behind his head. Suga watched him attempt a few times, and then moved to help, earning a grateful nod from Daichi before he continued “No, I think I’ll be doing the rugby-ball dribbling race then, with three other guys from the team.”

“Iwaizumi, will you be doing the three-legged race?” Suga asked this time, leaning against the tree, fingers still tingling from the contact he’d made with the nape of Daichi’s neck.

“No, I’ll be doing something else with Asahi, I think? I’ll be doing the long jump this morning as well.”

Suga hummed, thinking about the activities he had chosen. He was fine with gymnastics, having done it as a kid and enjoying it then. He just didn’t want to be doing human pyramids with guys three times his size and weight, scared to be crushed.

The bell rang as the clock struck 8:30, announcing the beginning of undoukai. Oikawa smirked at the sound.

“We’re so gonna crush you guys.” He slung his arm around Suga’s shoulder, the two of them grinning devilishly at Iwaizumi and Daichi.

“Sure, we’ll see who wins between the lanky baseball players and the bulky rugbymen.” Iwaizumi said as they made their way towards the stage set up outside the school, Oikawa’s arm still around Suga’s shoulders. The stage, credit of the art club, was decorated with colorful drawings and ribbons.

“I’m not lanky, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa cried into Suga’s ear, and all they could do was laugh.

“Who told you I was talking about you specifically?” Iwaizumi joked before shooting a look at Suga, who turned red and kept his gaze on the ground.

Oikawa lifted his arm off of Suga and quickened his pace to match Iwaizumi’s.

Suga crouched down to retie his shoelace. It wasn’t that it was untied, it was more so that he needed the moment to compose himself. Pointed comments towards his lanky frame, no matter how evident it was, no matter how lighthearted they were, weighed on him. He stayed down until he could hear Iwaizumi’s laugh getting distant, eventually mixing with the ruckus of the rest of the crowd.

Thumb tightly pressed against the opposite wrist, he took a deep breath and counted the seconds down, letting the panic settle in his stomach.

Footsteps from behind prompted him to turn, meeting Daichi’s worried eyes.

“You good?” Daichi asked, crouching down in front of him, unbearably close, the points of their shoes touching.

“Ah yes it’s just,” He stammered over the school principal’s voice echoing out of speakers. His eyes darted back down, away from Daichi’s chapped lips, “I didn’t tie my shoelaces well enough.” Suga tried to smile, chin shaking slightly.

Daichi leaned in even closer, his face a few centimeters away, eyes holding a steady stare, the space between them shrinking as though the pressure was pushing air out of Suga’s lungs. Daichi sighed but gave him a small smile, standing up and offering a hand to pull Suga to his feet.

He was sure Daichi could feel the sweat on his palms, but he didn’t complain. He stayed by his side throughout their principal’s entire speech, only parting ways once the first activities started. Suga convinced himself his racing heart was a result of nerves, not anything else.

Human pyramids had gone better than Suga expected, ending up on the top rather than supporting it from the ground. His team finished in third place, right behind the track and field and volleyball club.

They settled down on a patch of grass right next to the first string’s practice field. The lawn was still wet from yesterday’s downpour, but they’d all gotten used to mud stained clothes after regular practice sessions.

“I heard from a third year in the rugby club that Takeda-sensei and Ukai-san are dating…” Suga looked to see who’d made the remark- Shiroma, a second year fielder. Their easy going conversation had suddenly dropped to hushed whispers and murmurs.

“You think Ukai-san is gay? He doesn’t look like he’d be. Takeda-sensei though…” Suzuki, another second year, trailed off. The look of slight disgust on his face made a few of the boys laugh.

Oikawa spoke up, angrily. “How about you guys stop caring about things that happen behind closed doors and focus on the fact that Ukai-san is a good coach. We’re his team, all that should matter to us.”

“Getting a big head after you’ve been moved to first string, Oikawa Tooru?” Suzuki said in the middle of a bite of rice.

“Fuck y-“

“That’s enough.” Koga said sternly and the circle went quiet. A tense atmosphere came onto the group. “Shiroma and Suzuki, you stop spreading bullshit,” he drifted his gaze over to Oikawa, now biting his lips, almost drawing blood, “You, don’t say vulgar stuff to your senpais.”

“That’s all? He’s your lil’ protégé now or something?”

“Suzuki, I said that was enough.” Koga stood his ground. Nobody dared break the silence, Suzuki’s temper settling down.

Oikawa left ahead, visibly upset. Koga shot a glance to Suga, Hanamaki and Matsuhana, prompting them to their feet, going towards where they thought Oikawa would be.

And sure he was, legs pulled against his chest and chin resting on his knees, his arms draped over his bent legs.

“Can you leave me alone for some time?” Oikawa said under the tree they usually had lunch beneath.

“No.” Hanamaki flicked Oikawa’s forehead.

“Hey! What was that for!?”

“Just so you would come back to your senses.” Hanamaki sat down next to him, an arm slung over his shoulders.

Oikawa groaned, a slight crease between his eyebrows, pout prominent on his bruised lips. “I’ll punch you.”

“Sure you will~” Matsuhana teased, sitting down in front of Oikawa.

It felt strange, being there, Suga thought. Sure he had known Oikawa for 6 months now, but it wasn’t like he knew him the way Hanamaki or Matsuhana did. He still wanted to be there for him, as his friend as well as to also escape the tense atmosphere surrounding the group back at the practice field.

Suga joined the circle, sitting cross legged in front of Hanamaki, knees bumping with Matsukawa’s. “Are you okay?” Suga asked and Oikawa hummed, now hiding his face in his knees. “You know you don’t have to pretend with us.”

“I…” He looked back up, sun shining past the leaves and catching itself in his lashes. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that-“

“No.” Hanamaki pushed down hard on the brim of Oikawa’s cap, covering his glassy eyes. “You did the right thing, Suzuki was being an ass.”

Oikawa shook under their gaze, trying to remain as calm as possible, before he narrowed his eyes towards the grass. “I just… “ He took a deep breath, hands trembling as he picked at a few strands of grass. “Like, who the fuck cares if Ukai-san is gay? If he is, so be it, end of the conversation. I just hate that Suzuki has to feel superior about it.” He dusted his hands off his shorts. “Anyways, I hope his mediocre ass ends up back on second string.”

“You’re just saying this because you hate him, Oikawa.”

“There’s a reason why he was on the second-string in the first place, is all I’m saying.” Oikawa picked at a scab on his baseball-bruised knees.

Suga had never seen Oikawa like this, inflamed and raw as the skin under his scab, even back in April when they’d fought.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa knew something that he didn’t, but maybe, he thought, he’d eventually find out.

Oikawa let five minutes pass and stood, wide grin on his face. “It’s almost time for the relay, you guys are doing it, right?” He helped Suga up with an outstretched hand.

They watched the 4x100 meter relay under the September sun, Iwaizumi walking up behind them and snaking one arm around Oikawa’s waist, and before Suga could scoot away, the other around his shoulders, his skin warm against his nape.

Hanamaki was on the starting-blocks, and a gunshot like sound was heard before all the teams took off, cheering loud in his ears and around the track.

Suga didn’t flinch when Iwaizumi rested his chin on his shoulder, the earnest whisper of ‘I’m sorry’ crawling up his spine.

“What?” He removed his eyes from the field just in time to miss Hanamaki giving the baton to a second year in the baseball team. He stared at Iwaizumi on his shoulder, an added weight to the one he was already bearing, a confused furrow between his brows.

“What I said earlier, about being lanky.” His whisper felt incredibly loud despite the noise of the crowd surrounding them. Suga’s breath hitched, but it was muffled by the sound of a baton falling to the floor, the basketball team’s.

“You don’t have to apologise.” He looked back to the field and saw Kenta take off after Matsuhana passed him the baton, the best runner on the baseball team catching up to the other two competitors in front of him, finishing the run in first place.

While everyone’s eyes were on the winners, Iwaizumi nabbed Suga’s cap and ruffled his hair, letting it fall over his forehead in a soft curtain that covered his eyes. “Still, I wanted to apologise.” He smiled at him and put his cap back on. “And I want you to accept my apology.”

“Guess I don’t have the choice then.” He said, smiling back. “Thanks.”

It was almost three in the afternoon when the three-legged race started. The sun shone strong but a soft breeze cooled the participants off.

Oikawa crouched down to tie a cloth around his and Suga’s calves, coming back up to grip Suga’s shoulder and give it a squeeze. The baseball team was cheering for them, Suga felt his cheeks blush when he heard them chant their names. A small pang of disappointment hit him when he noticed somebody’s absence in the crowd, but he reminded himself that he and Oikawa had fallen over the last time they’d done a three-legged race together. Maybe it was better that Daichi wasn’t watching.

Set on winning the race, Oikawa stepped forward without waiting for Suga to lift his leg. They nearly fell, but hobbled forward with an odd pace.

After making distance, Suga could feel himself getting exhausted. His speed couldn’t match Oikawa’s, and his vision blurred. He tried to jerk Oikawa’s grip off his shoulder as they passed the finish line. The ankle attached to Oikawa’s twisted in one faulty step, and Suga let out a small cry, making Oikawa freeze up completely.

“Suga?” Oikawa pressed his lips together, eyes wide. “Are you okay? You’re really pale.”

The pain in his ankle kept Suga from speaking, prompting Oikawa to respond to the silence by placing pressure on Suga’s arm with his thumb, the way he’d taught him in June.

“Can you walk?”

His heart was caught in his throat, ringing in his ears drowning out the murmurs of the crowd. What was going on, what was going on, what was going on, what-

Oikawa snapped his fingers in front of Suga’s eyes, yanking him out from his own head. Iwaizumi’d appeared, though Suga hadn’t even registered him walking towards them. Suga felt himself go limp in the grip of his two friends, who walked him to the nurse’s office.

They’d nearly made it up the steps, Iwaizumi and Oikawa taking turns to reassure Suga that he was okay, that they were almost there, that they were holding onto him. In their arms, Suga mumbled that he didn’t know if he could make it, that he was thankful, that he’d just close his eyes for-

He woke up to fluorescent white lights on a white ceiling. He propped himself up, hand gripping the white comforter and eyes scanning the empty white room. A weird taste sat in his mouth, but his throat felt dry when he tried to swallow.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Suga turned to see Daichi, jet black hair and honeyed-brown skin, sitting next to his bed, fingers tracing the seams of the sheets. He was smiling impossibly wide, and Suga noticed a space between two of his teeth.

“Did I faint?” Suga asked, looking back up at the ceiling.

“You did,” Suga bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the groan threatening to go past his lips, “among other things.” Daichi’s tone was not one of teasing, but rather worrying.

That would explain the taste in his mouth, and the unbearable pain in his ankle.

“Did I… You know… Here?” Just the thought of saying the word made him gag.

“I wasn’t here when they brought you but Iwaizumi told me you did.” Suga groaned, fingers digging into the sheets.

“I’m guessing you’re here to bring me home.”

“Ah, yes, but also,” Daichi stretched his right cheek, exposing a missing tooth, “I was here for this.”

“How does one lose his tooth at undoukai?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Suga raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. “Collided with someone, lost a tooth, turns out I also had a concussion.” Daichi smiled despite the gravity of the situation, chuckling when he saw the disbelief on Suga’s face.

Despite having slept for god knows how long, Suga felt like he’d been up for years. He also felt vulnerable, every inch of his face open for Daichi to pick apart.

He moved to stand up, legs dangling down the side of the bed, only now seeing the purplish colour spreading above the bandage on his left ankle. “I’ll carry you home.”

“No, you won’t.” Suga said, careful to put his right foot on the floor before doing the same with his left. He hissed at the contact and caught an unimpressed look on Daichi’s face.

“Sure you can walk 20 minutes with your ankle like that?” Daichi asked before standing, the two of them now facing, copper staring into chestnut. Suga could only sigh - defeated.

He noticed both their gym bags sitting at the end of the bed, hefting them onto his shoulder before Daichi crouched down in front of him. Suga felt his heartrate pick up at the skin-against-skin contact, blood rushing towards his face, leaving his cheeks hot as he wrapped his arms more tightly around Daichi’s neck when he stood up.

“You didn’t finish your lunch.” Daichi said, to break the silence only filled by footsteps and leaves rustling. He stopped to heft Suga higher up on his back, his touch blazing on his skin.

Suga let a sharp, annoyed exhale out his nose, making Daichi shiver underneath him. “And you looked through my belongings, that’s bad, Sawamura.”

“Iwaizumi asked me to get your bag in your locker. I checked if all your stuff was there, nothing more.”

Suga rested his cheek on Daichi’s shoulder, lips brushing against the longer strands of hair. Despite his sour tone of voice, his insides were molten at how close Daichi was to him.

“Something happened between Oikawa and a member of the baseball team during lunch,” Suga sighed, “I won’t go into details but Oikawa was definitely upset so we went after him, without finishing our lunch.”

Daichi hummed in acknowledgement.

They turned to the street of his home, the light of the setting sun making the other houses and trees glow. “Thank you.” Suga whispered into sweaty, jet black hair.

As he caught sight of his home, Suga felt a heavy weight settle at the thought of his time with Daichi ending so soon.

“It’s okay.” Daichi whispered back, and Suga rummaged through his bag to find his keys, struggling to keep himself up while he opened the gate. “Should I carry you to your room?”

“Ah well,” His words bounced off the walls of the empty-as-usual house, “I can just stay downstairs. There’s a shower I can use, I can make dinner, and maybe sleep on the couch.”

Daichi’s short nails dug into the skin of his thighs, his jaw tightening at the sensation. “I could stay the evening if you want? I’ll take care of your bandage after your shower.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

With a defeated sigh, Suga gave up on trying to reason with Daichi. Still holding Suga up, Daichi removed his shoes in the genkan before going upstairs and to Suga’s room, dropping him on his bed.

“I’ll shower first.” He said, grabbing his sleeping hoodie from under his pillow.

“Do you… need help?”

Suga raised an eyebrow at him. “I hurt my ankle, not my entire body.” Daichi’s cheeks went pink. “But if you could help me walk to the bathroom, that’d be nice.”

Slinging his arm around Daichi’s shoulders, he tried to walk as best as he could towards his bathroom.

Suga sat on the toilet, the muscles tensed as he removed his bandage to find angry purple.

Suga’s gaze met Daichi’s for half a second, before darting away. “I’ll call my mom, to let her know I’m here.”

“Sure.” The tightness between his ribs eased when Daichi closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with his own reflection, watching the blush on his cheeks spreading to his chest.

He let his hands roam over his injury, pain spreading throughout his leg at the featherlight touch.

Suga had done stupid things in his life, but this- skipping breakfast and barely having lunch before a sport event, was on another level of careless. He still felt groggy from fainting, the taste in his mouth was awful despite washing it out under the shower jet. Overall, he felt horrible as he sat in the shower, letting the water cascade down his back, watching the foam accumulate at the drain.

He struggled to stand back up on one leg, making his knee flinch under the sudden weight. He stood, naked, in front of the sink, prominent, protruding bones and pale skin. A knot came up in Suga’s throat as he brushed his teeth, threatening to gag every time his toothbrush went over his molars. He tried to pull himself together, managing to regulate his breathing before the familiar squeeze of panic could take over him.

Daichi had his head tilted back when he heard the wood creak under Suga’s steps as he returned from the bathroom. Suga felt exposed, in his underwear and hoodie, as Daichi scanned him from head to toe. Suga scanned him too, his long neck craned towards him, the radiant warmth coming off of him that the sunlight had added to.

Daichi was quick to his feet to help him to his bed. “I brought soothing gel and a compression bandage.” He got the objects out of his hoodie’s pocket, handing them to a crouched Daichi.

He winced when Daichi started applying the gel on the dark bruise, a cooling sensation coming over the blood-rushed skin. Daichi’s eyes were half-lidded, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones as they caught the last of the sunset.

His hands gripped at his bedsheets, but for a second he wished he could see how it would feel to have them tangled in messy black hair, the thought going away when Daichi started wrapping the bandage around his ankle, his fingertips leaving a blazing trail in their wake.

“It feels like you’re a knight tending to my wounds.” He said, lips quirked up at the corner.

“Art thou okay with my binding, Sugawara-sama?” Daichi’s thumb stroked the skin right above his fibula, remnants of gel soothing his skin.

“Shut up, dork.” He laughed and Daichi’s eyes softened before he let out a chuckle of his own, the sound bouncing off the walls, unfamiliar but needed.

“Will you be okay? For baseball practice tomorrow?”

Not once had his injury’s effect on practice crossed his mind. “Not sure about tomorrow, but I should be able to pitch by Friday, if it’s not too bad.” Daichi finished wrapping the bandage and put tape over it. “It only looks like a slight sprain, I’ll just keep putting gel over it and rest.” Daichi was still sitting in front of him, his hands still holding his ankle. “Might need someone to help me go to school, and come back home.”

“I’m guessing I’m the someone?”

Suga hummed, leaning back on his palms. He felt comfortable, like this. “I’m not gonna force you to do so.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Daichi smiled.

His ‘thank you’ caught in his throat, passing it off as a lack of hydration rather than his emotions swelling.

When Daichi got up to shower, Suga laid back on his bed, hair wet and tousled, arms spread wide as he stared up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars seemed brighter than they usually were at that time of the day.

Never in his life had Suga expected to be sitting at his kitchen table, watching his newly found friend move around so freely around his kitchen as if it were his home, making food for him, for them.

Food seemed to taste better, swallow easier, between jokes and casual conversation.

Daichi had stayed until Suga was tucked in bed, giving him his phone number just in case he needed help the day after. When the door closed behind him downstairs, Suga let out a sigh he hadn’t realised he had been holding, sitting upright in his bed to watch Daichi’s retreating form walk out into the street, white lights washing out his warm skin.

He felt his heart clench inside his ribs when he saw him turn around, impossibly wide smile on his face as he waved at Suga’s window, Suga waving back shyly.

He laid awake in bed for what felt like hours, thinking about nothing and everything, tossing and turning before catching sight of his phone, resting on his bedside table. He checked the time, only 11 o’clock.

Opening the Messages app sounded like the best thing to do, at that time on a Monday evening, mind foggy with sleep. Tired fingers typed into a new conversation, hitting send once done.

He put his phone back and smiled when he heard it buzz against the wooden furniture.


	6. stillness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Would you like to kiss anyone present in this room?”

The sun was already down by the time practice ended. A chorus of  _ good work today _ ’s filled the stadium as they began to tidy up the mess of bottles and tackle bags laying on the artificial grass.

The late afternoon chill sent a shiver down Daichi’s spine as he turned around, noticing familiar brown eyes on him from afar, hair gently flowing in the wind, Daichi answering to his wave with a smile.

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulder. “Suga looks extra happy today.” Iwaizumi said, all pink cheeked with the cold.

“Must be the winter break effect.” Daichi grinned and they walked towards Suga, body still clad in his baseball uniform.

Daichi wondered if the team members surrounding him could see everything he was thinking, if they could see how badly Daichi wanted to slip his hand in Suga’s sweat-dampened hair, and the panic that came with such thought.

He pushed the thought away - or tried to. “Why didn’t you get changed?”

“I hurried over once practice was done because I didn’t want to go home on my own!” A faint pink painted Suga’s cheeks as well, the wind, Daichi thought. “I hate winter days when you have to go home when it’s night out. It’s not even 6 yet!”

“Have I ever gone home without waiting for you?” Suga’s pout turned into a playful smile.

“Have I ever told you I wanted to punch you?” 

Daichi and Iwaizumi were startled into a laugh, clutching at their sides. “A few times indeed.” He snorted.

“Yeah yeah, go get your stuff or whatever.” Daichi gave him a look to which Suga answered by showing his tongue.

They entered the locker room, and the strong scent of deodorant and testosterone hit his nostrils, eyes prickling at the corner with tears. His shirt clung to him like a second skin, but he made no move as to take a shower, instead changing his shoes and packing his belongings before leaving the stuffy room.

Before he could open the door, a voice reached his ears from the showers. “Sawamura, we still good for the 31st?” Omori, a third year, asked.

He turned the knob with a small but peppy ‘yes’ and left the room. Suga was still where he had left him, leaning against the fences, his back turned to him. It had been tempting to sneak up behind him, but the scrunch of cold dirt under his shoes made Suga turn around before he could. “You could have gotten changed.”

“You’ve already waited enough, it’s okay.” Suga gave him an appreciative smile.

While matching each other’s steps, they kept walking peacefully down the streets and to their homes, Daichi taking a small glance at Suga every few steps. His body shook under his gaze, shivering in the late December cold with sweat.

Daichi shrugged off his coat and handed it to him instinctively, Suga blinking at him in the dark, brows furrowed in confusion, the obvious ting of refusal on his tongue. “I can’t keep borrowing your clothes.” Suga shyly said and Daichi deadpanned, discouraging Suga from arguing. 

Suga slipped the coat over his shoulders, tucking it around his body carefully, and Daichi couldn’t help but zip it up for him all the way up to his chin. 

It was off-putting, the way Suga looked at him from under his long lashes, all doe-eyes and gentle smile. Silence was neither pleasant nor awkward as they made their way home. Unfamiliar body warmth mixed with his own, proximity being welcomed in the late December evening.

All that could be heard from their surroundings was the sound of their footsteps, slow but deep breath accompanied by light condensation clouds. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” Suga pointed out, nose buried in the neck of his, Daichi’s, coat. 

Daichi couldn’t lie and say he didn’t want to talk to Suga, while his brain was going 100 miles per hours just at the thought of going home with him. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t want to ask him something, but for some odd reason, he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask him to come to his birthday party.

It was with a sigh that Daichi surrendered. “I was wondering if you, perhaps, and you don’t have to accept of course I just-“

Suga stopped dead in his tracks, a light flick of his finger against his cheek. “Spill!”

“Come study at my place tomorrow.” What was he saying? “I mean you don’t have to say yes but you know with exams coming up-“

“Does 3pm sound alright to you?” Suga said with a small smile, just on this side of shy. With Daichi’s positive answer, Suga’s smile widened, eyes crinkling at the corner. Daichi could stare at it all day, he thought.

Daichi hadn’t even noticed they were already at Suga’s home when they had stopped walking, almost sad to be parting ways so soon. He watched Suga as he shrugged off his coat, handing it back to Daichi. “Thank you for this.” There was a silence, and Suga played with his fingers, dropping his gaze downwards. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Daichi had noticed Suga’s change in demeanour, but paid it no mind, instead offering him a small nod and a goodbye, watching silver hair turned gold under the streetlights disappear into the dark.

The sound of Suga’s soft laughter stayed in his head all night.

* * *

Suga shouldn’t be putting this much thought into an outfit for a studying session with Daichi. And yet, for what seemed like hours, but were probably mere minutes, he stood in front of his wardrobe. His gaze met his reflection in his mirror, deep-set frown on his face.

He was debating on whether he should wear those high waisted, loose black jeans with a simple burgundy sweater, or the tight fitted blue pants along with a mustard hoodie that reminded him of Daichi’s own.

The sunlight shining through the window was keeping him company, Suga welcoming the emptiness of his home just for the day.

After trying out both outfits, Suga settled for the first one, not feeling yellow for today. 

Chilliness met him when he stepped outside, and quite frankly, he didn’t think it would be that cold. He thanked the lords Daichi’s home was only a few hundreds of meters away from his own, because he was too lazy to go back to his room just to grab a coat that wouldn’t even go well with his fit.

He came to a halt in the middle of the street, between two thoughts, the familiar ‘thump’ of his bag hitting his hip with every step stopping abruptly. Who was he even trying to impress?

There was a thin sheen of sweat at his nape when he reached Daichi’s door, his knock, small and hesitant. There was the faint sound of barking behind the closed door that got louder once it swung open,  _ click click _ from its nails against the wooden-floor reaching his ears.

He was faced with Daichi’s mother, a confused look on her face.

Suga proceeded to bow to her. “Hello I’m Sugawara Koushi, I’m one of Daichi’s classmates.” He could feel his cheeks starting to heat up. Had Daichi not told her he was coming over?

“Ah, Sugawara-kun yes, sorry I’m expecting someone else and it completely slipped out of my mind, you can come in.” She chided before calling for Daichi. 

Suga sat in the genkan to remove his shoes before two toddlers appeared from what he guessed was the kitchen, walking over to him on shaky legs, leaning on their dog. One of them pointed at his hair, staring, and all Suga could do was stare back at her. 

“Mom, grandpa’s hair!” The little girl said, and Suga tried not to look bothered by the comment.

The creaking of wood was heard upstairs, and soon Daichi appeared up the stairs. “Izumi, apologise.” He said, voice stern as he reached the bottom of the stairs, and his little sister, Izumi, did as she was told promptly.

Suga stood up, a small smile tugging at his lips in thanks. They stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other, without saying anything, two small hands grabbing at their pants legs.

The dog’s whine was what made them stop staring at one another, Suga dropping into a crouch to pet his head, a welcomed distraction to break the awkward mood. “If you two need anything I’ll be in the living room okay?” They both nodded at Daichi’s mom and Daichi led Suga upstairs in silence. Daichi hadn’t said anything since Suga had arrived, and Suga didn’t know if he should start the conversation.

Daichi’s home was vibrant, full of life. Drawings up everywhere, he recognised Daichi’s own drawings from when it was still only him and his parents. Daichi’s room was so very Daichi, to say the least. Pictures of his friends adorned the walls, some he recognised, others he didn’t. He made this room his own in less than a year, when Suga had never succeeded to do so in 16 years.

They sat at a table in Daichi’s room, a plate of already-peeled tangerines waiting for them at its center. Their knees brushed under the table, and neither of them made to move, Suga waiting for Daichi to say anything, his eyes silently begging as he watched him open one of his books. 

“Should we start with algebra?” Daichi asked, and a sense of relief flooded Suga’s mind when he noticed Daichi’s eyes on him, soft with something Suga couldn’t decipher.

He opened his own book, a small, happy sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah.” 

For the next hour or so, all they did was study. Suga’s brain was a confused tangle of equations that Daichi tried to untangle. They had been way more productive than he thought they would be, and it had been good, that homework-doing moment. 

The silence was brief, broken by Daichi’s hum. “We should take a break before starting with English.” Daichi said, and Suga couldn’t tear his eyes away from Daichi’s muscles shifting under his shirt as he extended his arm to grab a piece of tangerine.

It seemed like he had forgotten how to blink, couldn’t remember how to even breathe; some people really were gifted, he thought, as he let his eyes roam his sun-kissed skin. 

Daichi’s eyes met his, looking back and forth, trying to figure out what was happening. “What is it?” Daichi laughed, obviously flustered, scratching at his neck.

“N-Nothing.” Daichi looked up at him, smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew Suga would respond like that.

Soon, English textbooks filled the table. Suga felt a flicker of surprise at Daichi’s English, better than it had been a few weeks ago in class. He took his sweet-time when it came to pronunciation, making sure he used the right tenses, and prepositions.

“Could you give me a bit of tangerine?” Suga asked in perfect English, eyes trailed on his textbook and answering questions, the scratch of pencil on paper filled the room, as well as the sound of swallowing coming from Daichi’s throat. 

Without registering it, Suga had eaten the piece of tangerine from Daichi’s fingers. He could feel the blush creeping hot up his neck, finding home in his cheeks. Daichi’s hand was still frozen close to his face, way too close in Suga’s opinion.

“I’m so sorry!” Suga stammered, and Daichi’s ears sported the same colour Suga’s cheeks were wearing. Suga hid his face in his hands, they were shaking a little with embarrassment.

A beat passed in silence and Suga spread his fingers to peer through them, only to find Daichi studying him, eyebrows furrowed, blush still high up on his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” Daichi had an awkward smile plastered on his face. They both looked around, desperately in search of something that would change the atmosphere. 

He tried not to focus on the way Daichi’s fingers flexed above the table, or the way he was chewing on his bottom lip with insistence, all of this while avoiding his gaze. Suga’s stomach twisted in on itself, his hand absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his sweater, to distract himself at least a little. They had gone past awkward silences, so it felt strange.

Daichi had been the first to speak up. “How did you learn how to speak English that well?” He asked, but his gaze never left the picture on his wall, of Daichi and his dog. 

Daichi uncrossed his legs under the table, extending them instead, and Suga couldn’t help but miss the feeling of having Daichi’s knee attached to his. The change of positions made things even more uncomfortable, even for Daichi, Suga could tell.

“M-My mom works at an international firm.” Suga’s heart skipped a beat when he saw white teeth nibbling at Daichi’s lip, “She speaks English a lot at home, and she also insisted I take private english classes when I was younger.” The sound of his knuckle cracking filled the room, Daichi’s gaze on him in an instant.

His cheeks felt less hot, his heart beat slower, not quite its normal rhythm, but still something. A hum filled the room, Suga going back to his textbook, avoiding Daichi’s eyes as hard as he could. 

He wished his hair had been slightly longer.

“I was actually wondering, which language do you speak at home? Since you’re fluent in at least three languages.” Suga leaned back on his arms, staring at the ceiling. It had already turned a nice, orange color.

“Our sentences are a mix of French, Japanese and English.” There’s a tint of amusement in his voice as he recalls memories of when he was younger, barely even four years old. “I spoke French a lot as a kid because my mom was often home, way more often than my dad was.” The stretch in his arms began to hurt, prompting him to change position, instead, crossing them on the table, chin resting on them. “I would understand Japanese but I didn’t want to speak it, I didn’t have lots of friends because of that.” His voice wobbled, but he hoped Daichi hadn’t heard it. There was a half-smile on his face that went as soon as it came.

Under lowered eyelids, Suga noticed Daichi open his mouth, about to speak up, before ruckus was heard downstairs. A dog’s bark, a child’s laugh. Daichi’s mother’s voice reached their ears, calling for Daichi, sounding soft.

Daichi’s pupils were shaking slightly as he looked at Suga, standing up before offering him a hand, his heart skipping a beat at the skin on skin contact.

The walk downstairs lasted what felt like an eternity, each of Daichi’s steps more hesitant the louder the voice got in the entryway. For a second, Suga wondered if he shouldn’t just stay behind, but judging from the blank expression on Daichi’s face, he decided that he should stay by his side instead.

There was a man sitting in the genkan, unmistakably Daichi’s father, small arms grabbing at his hair and clothes, warm smile on his face.

Daichi was a carbon-copy of his father. Same eyes, same nose, same hair. His smile was obviously his mother’s, small dimples appearing in their left cheeks, happiness visible in their eyes.

Suga only noticed the cast on his arm when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Daichi looked unsure what to do, with his black eyes looking noticeably panicky.

Daichi’s father’s gaze met his, and before he could introduce himself, Daichi spoke up. “How did you get that?” He made his voice as soft as he could, but it still came out a little off, on the side of aggressive.

There was half a beat of silence, his father unsure of what to say. “Someone twisted my arm, but it could have been worse.” A flicker of surprise passed through Suga, it made him realise he didn’t know much about Daichi or his family.

“Yeah, you could have been killed.” Daichi replies, harshly.

Suga could feel the tension growing in the room, taking a step back, eyes flitting around the room in search of something that would distract him from the scene in front of him.

“Daichi-“

“Do you think that having you here right now would erase the fact I had to sit there for the past 4 months wondering if you had been killed on the job?” Daichi said, cutting his mother off. “Do you think I’m not allowed to be angry?” His voice sounded rough, as if he was struggling to speak around a lump deep down his throat. Suga knew that feeling all too well.

Suga had never seen Daichi get this angry, and quite frankly, he didn’t even know he had it in him.

Suga felt out of place, like he definitely wasn’t supposed to be there. Daichi clenched his jaw, speaking up again before anyone could. “I’ll walk Suga home.” There was a faint tint of sadness in his words, and Suga let himself be walked upstairs, then downstairs, awkward smile and bow sent to Daichi’s family, before getting walked home, no words spoken between the two.

From the corner of his eye, Suga could see Daichi gnawing at his lip, picking at the skin around his nails, red beads appearing on raw skin.

When they finally stopped in front of his home, all Suga could notice was the way Daichi was rocking back and forth on the ball of his feet with a mix of restlessness and anxiety.

The sky was slowly getting darker as evening came, silence heavier the longer Daichi stayed.

“Wanna come in?” It slipped out of his mouth before Suga had time to think about it.

There was half a beat of silence, and then Suga glanced down at his feet, shuffling a bit. “No it’s okay I don’t want to bother your parents.” He gave him a smile, a weak one.

Suga’s hand reached out to grab Daichi’s own, it felt colder than it usually did. “My parents aren’t home.”

“Still-“

“Daichi,” He squeezed his hand tighter, Daichi’s eyes growing wider at the gesture. “I don’t know much about you or your family, but I’m here if you want to talk about it.” He let go of Daichi’s hand, his own dropping by his side. “I’m not gonna force you, but it could do you good.”

It didn’t take long to convince Daichi, and they soon found themselves in Suga’s room, Suga taking the chair and letting Daichi sit on his bed.

The picture was oddly familiar. Two people sitting on opposite ends of a room to talk about their problems. He smiled at that. Who would have thought that he would be the one listening, instead of being listened to?

Suga watched Daichi lay down on his bed, legs dangling from the side, fingers picking at the wool of his scarf he had tried on earlier. “This is a nice scarf.” Daichi proceeded to say, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

“Oh uhm… thanks.” The small talk didn’t manage to break the awkward, almost heavy atmosphere between them.

They were silent for a long while, Daichi shifted in his bed, a small sigh escaping chapped lips.

“My dad is a police detective,” Suga’s heart skipped a bit at the gravely tone of his voice, “he’s been working on this one Yakuza gang for the past three years, gathering intel and all that. He finally got the chance to infiltrate it four months ago, to hopefully dismantle it.” Daichi sat back up, warm brown eyes finding Suga’s in an instant.

“So you haven’t seen him in four months?”

“Yeah, haven’t seen or heard about him.” He exhaled heavily, Suga could see he had something else to say, but he didn’t push him. Instead, he turned around on his chair, grabbing the baseball on his desk and threw it at Daichi, catching it and throwing back at Suga.

It reminded him of long and lonely nights spent throwing the ball at his ceiling - mind wandering towards territories it shouldn’t be wandering to.

The back and forth ended with a small whimper on Daichi’s side, Suga watching shaky fingers tracing the seams. Daichi frowned, clearly trying to keep down the tears from welling up, dropping his gaze to his lap.

“I know it’s wrong of me to fight with him over this but,” His voice trembled over the words, “he’s young and he has kids, two young ones at that.” A tear shone in the remnant of the sunlight, landing on his palm, and Suga looked away, giving him a semblance of privacy. 

There was a sniffle on the other side of the room. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have dumped this on you.”

Suga didn’t know what to say. He usually was the one being comforted, not comforting.

“I think,” Suga said, eyes squeezing shut. “It’s normal of you to feel sad, angry or even disappointed, but I also think you should talk things out with him. Did you tell him about your worries?”

Suga’s heart was beating a thousand miles per hour, hesitating on every single word, afraid of offending him.

“I-“ Daichi choked on the word. “I didn’t.”

Suga smiled at that and he stood up, sitting beside Daichi on his bed. He immediately looked up at him, Daichi’s head cocked to the side. Daichi’s eyelashes caught the light emanating from the lamppost right outside his window, their faces so close Suga could almost count them.

“You should let him know, it may not excuse the fact you got angry at him, but he might understand.” Daichi smiled slightly, and Suga couldn’t help but poke at his cheek with his index finger, right where his dimple was.

He didn’t know if the mood had lightened or gotten heavier. Both their cheeks flushed pink at the gesture, a thud being heard after Daichi dropped the baseball that was still in his hand.

“Sorry.” Suga managed to let out, Daichi’s laugh filling his room. “What?!” His heart rate picked up, feeling his blood rush towards his ears.

“You should see your face right now. You look like a tomato.”

“Shut up!” He didn’t mean it, and his insides turned molten at the genuine smile on Daichi’s face, honest and bright.

“Actually I meant to ask you something.” Daichi was still a little red in the cheeks, and he wondered if the colour hadn’t darkened a bit. 

Suga raised his eyebrows questioningly, unable to say anything.

“I’m having a small gathering for my birthday, and I want you to come, if you’re not already doing something that night ‘cause my birthday’s on the 31st of December and-“

“I’m not doing anything.” Suga cut him off, lips quirked up in the corner. He made it look like he was calm and composed, but he was nothing of the sort. 

Flustered, Daichi scratched his neck. “Great. That’s- Yeah that’s great.” They blinked at each other, and Suga’s heart stuttered a bit in his chest at the closeness between their two bodies, pinkie itching to touch Daichi’s own.

Avoiding Daichi’s eyes, he looked out the window, sky already dark and dotted with stars. He really hated winter nights.

“It’s getting late,” There was the faint hint of a pout on Daichi’s lips, Suga’s heart contracted harshly. “I should go…”

Suga was almost disappointed, but it really was getting late. So instead of dwelling on it, he got to his feet. “I’m not walking you back home.” Suga grinned, and all Daichi could do was give him a deadpan look before standing up too.

They stood so close, and it was only today that Suga noticed the small difference in height, Suga was maybe one or two centimeters taller, and that put a smile to his lips, a small and stupid victory.

Suga trailed behind Daichi, leaning against the wall, watching Daichi carefully. 

“Thank you for listening to me, or sorry for having you listen to me.” It was almost impossible for him to tear his eyes away from Daichi, even when the other looked up from his shoes to Suga’s face, holding his gaze.

He smiled, jaw starting to ache. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Daichi’s hand froze halfway through turning the knob, faint pink dusting his neck and ears. “I’ll see you on Wednesday then.” And with a smile, Daichi was out the door, leaving Suga alone in the calm of his house, staring at the door as if it would open again.

He took a long breath, before resting his forehead against the wall.

“ _ God. _ ”

* * *

He didn’t know how he had found himself in a game of spin the bottle surrounded by twenty people when it should have been a small gathering.

But he did.

He watched the glass bottle spin in the middle of the circle , eyes following its dizzying spell. Suga wasn’t one to break the law, but he couldn’t have refused when one of the senpais in the rugby team had offered him a drink. It wasn’t like he didn’t drink wine or champagne with his parents back at home anyway.

Right now, he felt good, the right kind of inhibited so that he would enjoy the rather big crowd, one he was not used to. The right kind of inhibited so that he could still think for himself.

Suga didn’t even know how the senpai had gotten the alcohol. From their older brothers or sisters probably, he thought. The thought was quickly pushed aside when he saw the bottleneck land on him, everyone around the circle cheering because it was the first time it landed on him tonight.

“Sugawara!” The girl who had spun the bottle said, Suga didn’t know her name but he was pretty sure she was a first year in Iwaizumi’s class. “Truth or Dare?”

She looked almost disappointed when Suga had said the word “Truth”.

“Not fun Sugawara,” Her cheeks were dusted with pink, words slurred together with alcohol, “Would you like to kiss anyone present in this room?”

It slipped out of his mouth before his brain had even had the time to think about it. “Yes.”

A chorus of ‘ _ who’  _ filled the room, and he didn’t want to admit it, but the image of tanned skin, chapped lips, and short cropped black hair filled his mind.

It was with a smug smile that he said his next words, hands reaching towards the bottle still laying in the middle, gaze directed at someone that wasn’t even sitting in the circle. “It’s truth, not truths.”

The bottle spun and spun before landing on someone else, Suga asking the usual question to one of his senpais before chugging down the last of his drink. His hum was drowned out by the noise of the crowd as the liquid slid down his throat, warming him from the inside, feeling it settle at the pit of his mostly empty stomach.

He wondered what it would feel like to have callused-finger cradling his face, lips meeting in a soft and chaste kiss. Would they feel smooth? Rough? Would they close their eyes or keep them open, wanting to appreciate the moment to the fullest? Would it be slow and uncertain, or relentless?

His cheeks grew hot at the thoughts, but he was quickly pulled away from them when Iwaizumi’s name was called after the bottle landed on him.

“Iwaizumi, who was your first kiss?” A different girl said, Suga had never seen her at school, but she seemed to know Daichi and Iwaizumi, probably a classmate from their old school.

Everybody was expecting some random girl’s name from middle school, or maybe no name at all. They were only high schoolers, tons of people never got their first kiss til their last year of high school or even university.

It’s when Suga’s gaze found Iwaizumi’s across the circle of teenagers that he understood.

“Suga.”

The resonance of his name made his stomach clench, dread replacing the alcohol at its pit.

The next few words threatened to make him throw up whatever was in his stomach. “S-Suga was your first kiss? But you’re both boys!” Her face was filled with surprise and Suga was sick with it, a familiar clench in his throat being the sign of nausea.

They were six, for crying out loud!

“We were six, it was just one kiss that’s all.” He said, and his voice cracked, having to bite his lips so as to not gag.

He felt his eyebrow twitch, felt everyone’s gaze on him and moved to stand up, helplessness filling his gut.

A hand found its way to his arm before he could stand, Oikawa’s, thumb applying strong pressure just below his wrist.

“Okay! Let’s- Let’s continue the game!” 

Suga didn’t go outside ’til at least a little bit after midnight, when everyone was still a little lightheaded, bodies sloppily swaying from side to side in the middle of the living room to music he hadn’t heard in years.

He looked up at the night sky, filled with stars, the quiet bangs of fireworks heard from far away. The bitter night air was harsh on his face as he sat down on the steps, and all he could do was bury his nose in the scarf he had brought with him.

He still felt a little breathless, remnants of panic still sitting deep down his stomach. He didn’t want to deal with the noise of the party when the ringing in his ear was being so loud.

The door opened behind him, and he figured it was going to be someone out for a smoke, or a loner like him needing space. He was met with Iwaizumi’s face, sitting beside him, his arms draped over his knees in a relaxed posture.

Iwaizumi pursed his lips, white clouds leaving them as hot breath met stinging cold. “Not enjoying the party?” Iwaizumi slurred, lazy smile on his lips.

“I am, just felt like going outside for a bit.” Was it the fireworks or his heartbeat, slamming so loud between his ribcage?

It went quiet for the longest time, and then Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

“Between you and Daichi, it’s like a festival of apologies.” Suga smiled, or tried to. He adopted a similar position to Iwaizumi’s, chin resting on his knees.

The look Iwaizumi gave him said it all, a clear mix of surprise and confusion, Suga reading Iwaizumi just like when they were kids. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Iwaizumi shouted, and he regretted it when he heard Suga’s breath hitch in surprise. “I-I keep fucking shit up even though I want us to go back to the way we were when we were kids and I just-“ Iwaizumi sighed before straightening up. “I miss you, Suga.”

Being taken aback would be an understatement. Suga was definitely surprised, his heart racing as if he had just been confessed to, Suga closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“We- I spend every single lunch break with you and the guys-“ 

“I miss the time we had together, just the two of us.” When Suga pried his eyes open, green dark ones were on him, intense. Suga noticed Iwaizumi glancing down at his lips shortly before looking him back at his eyes, Suga terrified Iwaizumi could hear his racing heart, louder than a crowd during a game.

Suga gulped, sound drowned out by the noise of the party. “Well you know where to find me, I still live right there down this very street.” He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a reproach, but he could see the hurt in every line of Iwaizumi’s face.

“Yeah,” The silence had been too long, “you’re right.”

Sighing, he could feel his stomach churn, the familiar uneasiness tugging at his heart string. “I’m-“

“Ah! Iwaizumi!” It was the girl from earlier, Suga still didn’t know her name. “Oikawa was looking for you.” 

He watched Iwaizumi stand up, dusting off his pants, a half-smile pulling at his lips before ruffling Suga’s hair and disappearing inside.

The gentle whisper of the wind made him all the more aware of the turmoil inside himself. Suga extended his legs, looking up at the sky, wondering.

He should go home, shouldn’t he? He still hadn’t given his gift to Daichi, he probably should do that before leaving.

It was only now as he wondered whether he should leave or not that he realised they had barely even interacted tonight. He tried not to let the thought sadden him, to no avail. 

With a deep exhale he stood up, unfamiliar warmth welcoming him as he stepped back inside. He grabbed the neatly wrapped gift he had put on top of the pile a few hours ago, peeking into every room in search of Daichi.

He was in the kitchen talking with two other people Suga didn’t seem to know, Daichi’s back turned to him. There was the small girl with shoulder-length black hair from earlier by his side, and a boy of average height and chestnut hair, faint trace of freckles on his cheeks facing Daichi. He didn’t seem like he was on the rugby team, and Suga had never seen him at Karasuno either.

It was with a light tap on Daichi’s shoulder that Suga interrupted him, Daichi’s stare making him feel so small. “Uhm sorry, I’ll be going.”

A slight pink adorned Daichi’s cheeks, eyes looking nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

Suga hated this feeling of being observed, as if Daichi was watching for any crack in his demeanour.

“Already? You live just down the street.” The shame made him want to crawl into bed and never get out.

Bile rose up his throat and the hold he had on the gift tightened, paper crumpling under his finger. “Yeah… Uhm…”

“It’s okay.” There was that dumb, awkward smile on Daichi’s face, and Suga handed him his gift, and he watched him fiddle with the wrapping paper.

“You don’t have to open it now but well yeah, that’s my gift, from me to uh you.”

“Thanks, Suga.” He heard Daichi say, but Suga had already left the room.

He expected someone to chase after him, stopping one last time in the middle of the street to look back towards the house, a sense of disappointment as the door stayed shut.

His shoulders slumped, passing the tears at the corner of his eyes as a response to the stinging cold, instead of the sadness settling deep down in his gut.

He shrugged his clothes off as he entered his room, the quiet of his home doing nothing to help his racing thoughts.

The smell of rawhide filled his nostrils as he picked up his baseball, laying down on his bed and throwing it towards the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars didn’t shine, and one of them came off at one particularly strong throw.

Suga’s mouth went tight, feeling his eyes well up with tears. A buzz on his bedside table was what tore him out of his mopery.

It was a picture from Oikawa.

On it, all pink-cheeked and tousled hair, was Daichi, brown and blue scarf around his neck. 

Suga had picked Daichi’s gift in a hurry, but it suited him, he thought. He touched his lips, feeling the small smile tug at them, remnants of his sniffles bouncing off the walls of his room.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really struggled with this chapter but i still hope you liked it! sorry for the wait! uni is terrible ♥
> 
> thank you na for proofreading this<3  
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sugawraa) !  
> 


End file.
